Nezumi
by SoulSurvivor
Summary: Ranma faces his heritage in the World of Darkness
1. Birthing Plague

Disclaimer:  
Domo Arigato Takahashi-sama for your wonderous work in Ranma 1/2. I would never presume to claim your work for mine own, I simply borrow from your genius to entertain those who would read my work. Please send not your Legions of Rabid Attack Lawyers for I am a simple person and broke to boot.  
  
I have made several adjustments and hopefully cleaned up my style a bit - I would appreciate C&C  
  
  
Prolouge: Birthing Plague  
  
Ranma ran. His clawed feet propelled him through the bushes at a pace most would consider reckless under circumstances less dire, his smooth black fur protecting his flesh from the tearing brambles that surrounded him. Behind him, to close for comfort, he could hear the hunters, baying in rage as he eluded their pursuit. 'Damn them! Damn them all!' His salvation was suddenly before him then, in the form of a tunnel barely large enough for him to squeeze into in his present form, one that _they_ would stand no chance whatsoever of entering. Diving into the bolthole he began to dig, desperately trying to widen the gap before his pursuers were upon him. Less than half a bodylength inside his hopes were smashed, destroyed as he would soon be, the tunnel dead ended into stone.  
  
Pulling himself out, he could make out the hunters forms as they crashed through the bushes, almost upon him. This was it then, this was where he would make his stand, this was where he would sell his life, and perhaps avenge the lives of his warren brothers by taking as many of the damned wolves with him as possible. Standing on his hind legs, he could feel his body shift to match his will, drawing his blade he faced his end.  
  
The wolves, while faster than any mere man, were no match for his raw speed. Before the knew he was there, he was among them, darting between the legs of the first while slashing its groin with his blade, smiling at its scream of agony. Driving his dagger into ball-less's spine, he launched himself at the castrate's packmate, sinking his incisors deep into its throat and tearing out a mouthfull of flesh as it reeled back from his assault. For a moment, he felt that he might win, just for a moment, then the third one blindsided him, driving him into the dirt keening in pain. Pushing for all he was worth, he tried to win free, but while he was their superior in speed, when it came to raw power, the wolves had him clearly outmatched. Blow after blow rained upon him, keeping him pinned till the rest of the pack arrived and tore him apart...  
  
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With a scream, he shot up in bed, regretting it immediately, waves of pain crashing in his head as he collapsed back down. Where was he? The sharp smell of antiseptic and the pinch of an IV in his arm gave answer. A hospital.... Why? A fight? Memories of an argument, an argument with Akane... Then Ryoga, angry... Nothing new there... A fight, yes, a fight.. A momentary mistiming and a blow getting through... Into the garbage cans... Something coming out, something disturbed by his landing... A c.. Ccca.. One of THEM... Landing on his chest... To much, last straw... Now this...  
  
'So hot.. Im on fire.. So dry..' A hand to his forehead confirmed the fever, the aches and pains associated with illness, not injury. 'Sick? I never get sick!' All pride aside, it matched up, while the bruises from his fight had long since faded, he hurt... Pain in his head, soreness in his throat... 'Gotta get up... Gotta drink something, anything... So hot' With a grunt of effort, he levered himself into sitting position again... Fighting waves of nausea he stood and made his way to the door, drawn up short by the pain in his arm as the IV made itself known again. With a snarl he jerked it out and continued. Into the bathroom, water... Yes water would be nice.. Drink... Voices, mutterings... "Who's there?" Turning a little to quickly for comfort he found that he was still alone... Turning the water off he yelped at the unexpected pain from his hand 'Whaa?' A bandage there... Pull it off... His hand was swollen, with a small bite wound festering lightly in spite of the antibiotics... 'Where did that come from?'  
  
'The infection, thats prolly what made me sick... Yeah thats it, Pops'll have a field day with this, a little scratch like that laying me up...' Visions of his fathers jibes and the extra training that would come from this dancing through his head, Ranma made his way back to the bed... --no, not here, go-- Turning quickly, he scanned the room, looking for the voice "Whadaya mean not here? Who's there?" The rooms only other occupant, an old man on a respirator, had no answers for him. --go, find the others, out of here and they will find you-- "What others?" 'What the hell am I doing? Im having a conversation with myself... Thats it, the damn tomboy's hit me one to many time with that mallet, and I've lost it...' "Look you... me... whatever... I aint goin' nowhere but back to bed. You got a problem with that?" Suiting actions to words, he made it about halfway before his stomach made it's displeasure with him known to any and all who would listen.  
  
  
"Okaayy, then again, maybe I'll see what I can scrounge up for eats first..." 'Ucchan's should be opening soon... I'm sure she wouldnt mind parting with a couple of okonomiyaki for a sick man.' With that thought, he had the window open and was out and on his way... Compleatly overlooking the fact that all he wore was a hospital gown.  
  
It was a testament to his training and conditioning that he made it at all. As it was, it was almost 2 hours before he arrived at the Ucchan, and the pre-dawn glow was making itself known.  
  
"I was wondering if you would actually make it this far." The voice from the shadows caught him off guard as he whipped around in a combat crouch to face it.  
  
"Who's there? Show yourself!"  
  
A piece of the shadow broke away revealing a young woman dressed in dark clothing, she looked to be maybe a little older than Kasumi, raven hair bound in a simple tail down her back. Moving slightly quieter than a ghost she aproched him.  
  
"I begin to see why you were chosen, few are those who are able to travel in the throes of the plague"  
  
"Plague? What do you mean?"  
  
"In time you will know." She looked him over for a moment. "Mother has chosen well it seems."  
  
"What are you talking about? Who's mother?"  
  
"She is the one who speaks to you, who tends you during your plague, filling your blood with memories of what once was, and can be."  
  
"Riight... Look lady, I dont have time for this, as interesting as your story is, Im hungry, sick, and my head is killing me. So, not to be rude, but could you leave this for later?"  
  
Her voice was tinged with light mirth as she turned away. "As you wish, young Warrior. When you need my answers, ask your bretheren, they will find me, ask for Sakura Walks in Shadows, and I will come." With that she slipped back into the shadows and was gone.  
  
'Sheesh... What a nut.' As he turned to knock on the door, the last of his strength failed him leaving him collapsed on the steps.  
  
Ukyo was not a happy camper. Between prices on supplies, slow business and Hinako-sensei's piles of homework, stress was mounting to an extreme. Now added to that, Ranchan was in the hospital with an unknown disease. 'Leave it to Ranchan.. Could'nt get a cold or the flu or something normal... Nooo, HE has to catch a bug nobody's _ever_ heard of.' Her morning preparations were interrupted by the sound of something large impacting her door. 'What is it now!?' "Tsubasa, you jackass! If thats you Im gonna pound you into the middle of next week!" Storming over to the door she yanked it open only to have a hospital gown clad Ranma tumble in and lie there unmoving.  
  
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Ranma finished gnawing the ropes and sat back to admire his handiwork. While it would not affect the ship under normal conditions, the partially chewed ropes would give way under heavy strain, say that caused by any number of squalls common this time of year. The ropes giving way under those circumstances would cause an untold amount of havoc on the decks, possibly even sinking the ship... This was good. The dutch traders were unwelcome, gaijin who brought their rifles and black powder, disrupting the peace and harmony of his homeland in ways that would not _could not_ be tolerated. Chittering an order to his companions, he led the way down the anchor line and into the bay, swimming as fast as his four feet could carry him to the shoreline. Their departure was noticed by a lone crewman on deck, who muttered something about rats and sinking ships before returning his attention to his rum.  
  
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He was awake again, or he thought he was at least, his last clear recollection being the strange woman in front of Ucchan's. Where was he now? His mind was filled with disjointed memories, dreams blending with reality, all overlaid with a chittering that he could almost understand. 'Sleep' It said, 'Sleep for there is more to see.' Not having the energy to to do otherwise, he complied.  
  
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He found himself standing on a hilltop, looking at the skyline of Tokyo in the distance, the city seemed different some how, wrong in ways he could not begin to understand. The chittering, now a voice he could follow, one he felt he could trust though he knew not why, surrounded him once more. "What you feel," It said, "the discomfort, is that wound in the Emerald Mother's flesh, the entrapment of the Wyld in the Weavers webs." Looking closer, the scene before him altered, distorting slightly. He could see the hill he stood upon, and the surrounding countryside take on a slightly untamed, though healthy and vibrant aspect, whereas the closer to the city he looked, the less healthy it seemed. The voice was right, it was like a wound, not a mortal blow, more of a festering tear in the harmony around him. The very essence of the land itself seemed bound and constrained, begging to be set free, pleading for release from the seemingly endless strands that bound it tight. Worse, it was not the city alone, for the countryside around it was slowly being drawn in, captured, restraind, ordered and regulated.  
  
"Look now upon the works of man, who in allaince with the Weaver is bringing this age to a close."  
  
"What do you mean? Whats going on? Who are you?"  
  
"You have many questions warrior, I am here to answer them." A haze formed in front of him, slowly resolving into the form of a giant rat, about ten feet tall at the shoulder, oddly enough this didn't bother him. Then it spoke again, in the same chittering sing-song language that he could somehow understand. "To answer your last question first, I am Rat, your Mother and guardian. As for what is going on, you have been chosen from amongst your homid kin to join my ranks as a Warrior for the Emerald Mother, known as Gaia to the Sunset People. As for what I meant earlier, that will become clear in time"  
  
Absorbing this tidbit brought the next question "Why me? I mean, I'm the best martial artist around, but what can I do about this?" He waved at the cityscape before them. "This isn't something you can handle with your fists."  
  
"Why you? Why not? You are as you claim, a skilled warrior, and warriors are what I need. True, you alone cannot affect much, then again, who can tell..." The last was said with an expression that was _way_ to reminiscent of Nabiki for his liking.  
  
"Wait a minute here... Theres more goin on here aint there, you want more than a fighter dont you? You have something in mind, I can feel it!"  
  
"That I may young warrior, that I may. If I do, I am sure you will figure it out in time. For now, let us say that you have talents that can be of great use to me, in return for which I am granting you strength, speed and abilities beyond what you could achieve on your own. Provided of course you survive your re-birth." That said, the apparition faded, as if it had never truly been there at all.  
  
Ranma stood there, re-playing the conversation in his head when something that was said finally penetrated. "Hey!! Whadaya mean _IF_ I survive?!?!"  
  
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Tbc  
  
For those of you unfamiliar with the World of Darkness, more will be revealed shortly, for those of you who are enlightened, Im sure you realize what is going on by now..  
  
For those of you who wonder about the Nezumi, this may give you some insight:  
  
http://members.tripod.com/wwta/Breeds/Ratkin/Tribes/Nezumi/nezumi_tribe.htm  
  
SoulSurvivor  
  
Questions? Comments?  
E-mail me at:  
  
simkin@rocketmail.com  
  
We are the equalizers, the Low Born, the ultimate truth. When our Hakken brothers realize the need for us again, they will come, and we will make a killing...literally.   
-- TienBao, Nezumi Warrior  
  
(Hakken - Werewolf) 


	2. First Change

By the way folks, I could use some C&C here  
  
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Disclaimer: Aside from Rumiko Takahashi, the list of people who have the rights to Ranma 1/2 escapes me at the moment. However, I can tell you with absolute certainty that it most definately does NOT include me.  
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Chapter 1  
  
The flames of the pyre lit the early evening skies, consuming first the collected wood, then Hidoshi's remains. As he watched it burn, Ranma could hear the chittering of his warren brothers, some commenting on their recent victory, while others quietly berated him for wasting valuable time. Even as the fire consumed the over-honored hakken, they were already preparing to break camp and disperse into the night. Even before he spoke, Yashida's presence behind him spoke volumes, questioning his actions this evening.  
  
"Why are we doing this? Why not leave him for the carrion birds? We have much to do before the night is done."  
  
As true as the words were, he could not bring himself to agree with the sentiments behind them. True, the aged hakken had been a burden, his notions of honorable combat more than once causing friction between himself and the rest. It had even been the cause of his death, facing the bakemono openly, inviting then to lay him low, yet... His suicidal frontal attack had also given them their victory, the bakemono, so occupied were they with the lone raging wolf, never saw the rats with daggers striking from the shadows.  
  
"He knew..."  
  
"Ehh?" Yashida was more than a little confused by his warren brothers behavior by this point. First allowing the hakken to join their hunt, knowing that the old wolf would cause trouble, then going through the trouble of building a pyre when the fool mutt went and got himself killed. Now, spouting nonsense and wasting time when they had appointments to keep.  
  
"He knew our chances were slim..." Ranma's voice held confusion and a slight hint of awe "He sacrificed himself as a diversion so we could win the day."  
  
"More the fool then..." The younger warriors words fairly dripped contempt. "Had he stuck to the shadows with the rest of us, he might still be alive."  
  
"He might... Or we might all be dead... But, either way, that was not his way. While I dont agree with his views, I can and will honor his sacrifice." Adjusting the ornate katana slung across his back, he turned to Yashida. "The very least I can do is return his sword to his clan, and let them know that he died with honor." Turning back to face the flames he dismissed his warren brother "Leave with the others... When my business is concluded I will meet you in Osaka." He then returned to his meditations as his brothers slipped off into the night.  
  
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When next Ranma awoke, it was to familiar surroundings with the morning sun on his face. With a mild sense of relief, he realized that the room he was in was the same one he occupied on a regular basis after an argument with Akane. From what he could tell, his fever had broken though his head still ached slightly and his throat was bone dry. Casting about, he spotted a pitcher of water and a glass that the good doctor had apparently left in anticipation of just that eventuality. While a relief to his throat, the water merely aggarvated his grumling stomach, which chose that particular moment to remind him of exactly _why_ he was not in his hospital room. Deciding that he'd had enough bed rest for one day, he was out the window and headed towards the dojo without further ado.  
  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
It was a quiet day in the Tendo Dojo, as rare as those are. Taking advantage of the lack of challengers / kidnappers / fiancee's / family members, etc. Kasumi was catching up on the days laundry when she heard scuffling sounds coming from the kitchen. Quieter than a mouse, she crept to the doorway, wondering who might have come in without knocking. 'Maybe it is that Ryouga fellow, lost again, or perhaps P-chan...' The sight that greeted her instead was that of Ranma, dressed in a hospital gown, inhaling the leftovers of last nights meal... What was left after Mr. Saotome, anyway. Wrinkling her nose at the odor of stale bed sweat that surrounded him, she quickly retrieved on of his outfits and returning she placed it on the table before him. "Ranma, why dont you go wash up while I make you some lunch? You need it rather badly."  
  
Before he could answer, she was already at he cabinets selecting ingredients. After taking a quick whiff of himself, he had to agree with her, so grabbing his clothes he headed for the bath. After scrubbing himself down, he inched his way into a piping hot furo to loosen up his muscles and hopefully lose his headache. Drowsing slightly from the furo's heat, the buzz in his head resolved itself down to what sounded like the simultaneous muttering of thousands of chittering voices. Strangely enough, he found this comforting, their presence reasured him for some reason. Slipping deeper into his trancelike state, he failed to hear the rest of the family arriving as he was elsewhere...  
  
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Ranma walked down the streets of the prefecture known as Nerima, Hidoshi's katana still slung across his back. He needed to find the old hakken's family so he could rejoin his... This however was proving to be more dificult than he had anticipated. He was running out of time, if he did not leave for Osaka soon he would miss the meeting with his brothers, and that could not be allowed. Slipping into a kendo training hall he hid the wrapped bundle, digging a hole for it under a loose board. He then vowed to return when his battle was won, but, until then, Tendo Hidoshi's family sword would have to wait.   
  
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Ranma sat up... He knew... He knew where it was! He could feel it... Stumbling out of the tub he gave a quick once over and dressed as he was exiting the bathroom, plowing over Akane who was half undressed in the changing room in the process. Before she even had a chance to yell, he was out the door and down the hall, still muttering, "I know where it is... I know where it is!"  
  
Climbing to her feet, Akane was more than a little annoyed 'That Baka!... He didnt even see me! What the hell was he talking about? ''I know where it is!'' He knows where what is?' "RRRAANNNMMMAAA!! Come Back Here!!" 'Dammit!! I _WILL_ find out what's going on here...' She turned and began the chase '...even if I have to beat it out of him!'  
  
Elsewhere in Nerima, Ryouga was lost. While there is nothing new about this fact it is still fair to mention it at times. It wouldnt be so bad if he at least had a clue as to where he was. Last he checked he was in Kyoto, now he was here, and while here looked slightly familiar, so did most of Japan. 'Kobe... Yes this looks like Kobe... So where's Nerima in relation to Kobe? North? Yes north...' So thinking, he turned to face the afternoon sun and started walking... Only to be trammpled by a hurried pigtailed martial artist and then by the love of his life.  
  
"Ooof!" Sometimes it just didnt pay to get up in the morning... Slowly he climbed to his feet and began to stagger after them. "Damn you Saotome!!"  
  
On the rooftops there is a bare flicker as a handkerchif covered bald head pokes out momentarily then vanishes once more.  
  
That morning also saw the 'Blue Thunder of Furinkan High' in his most sacred temple... The kendo hall next to the high school. There, he was able to pass on the wonderous knowledge of the sword to his peers and junior classmen. Like now, maintaining a pace that challenged yet did not overtax the advanced members of the Kendo Club. Challenged _them_ anyway... For one such as himself, these drills were mere child's play, yet they cleared his mind and allowed him to think... His problem today was the same problem as yesterday, and the day before that... That Foul Sorcerer Ranma Saotome...   
  
On a subconcious level, he knew that Ranma was no sorcerer, simply a master martial artist, yet his pride would not allow that he could be defeated by a mere bare handed peasent, so he convinced himself that it was magic... He did it so well that some days he actually believed it. Others, like today, when he was losing himself in the motions of his art, he could actually come close to admitting the truth. The truth about Saotome, Akane and his Pig Tailed Goddess... Though the last... What was supposed to be the truth proved to be as bad as his fantasies, so he simply ignored it.   
  
His problem was that as much as he would like to drop the whole sordid affair, he could not, he had openly declared his love for the pigtailed girl, and his pride would not let him admit that she might be other than she seemed. Yet while he was ocasionally delusional, he was not entirely stupid... He had seen them change into each other on many occasions, and even delusions have their limits. Yet, if he admitted that she was Ranma then he admitted to declaring his love for a man, and that could not be tolerated...  
  
So caught up was he in his thoughts that it took him a few seconds to realize that the class had stopped, and as one they were staring at a new arrival. Following their gaze, a smile touched his lips momentarily before his eyes hardened. 'Saotome!' The Game was afoot!   
  
Falling into character, he glared daggers at the young martial artist "Saotome! How dare you defile these sacred halls with your foul stench! Begone at once ere I show you the error of your ways!" Upon seeing that he was being ignored he advanced, while in the back of his mind warning signals were going off left and right, telling him that something was not right here.   
  
"Very well then sorcerer, the Wrath of Heaven is slow but sure... Prepare to Meet Justice Fiend!!" with that he charged his opponent, bokken held at ready, one part of his mind knowing that it would do no good, another part rationalizing that appearances had to be maintained. He was not in the least bit surprised when he felt his boken leave his grasp, nor when he felt Ranmas foot connect with his chin, slamming him into the far wall.   
  
Feigning unconciosness, he watched Saotome, curious in spite of himself. He observed as Ranma looked at the bokken as if he had never seen it before, then walking over to far left wall, he paced his way from there to roughly halfway across the room.   
  
As he watched, Kuno felt a familiar, at least to him, blurring sensation as the scene changed. The training hall was empty, and had changed in apperance, the floor was lower to the ground, and the architecture was of a much more archiac design. A man entered the room, casting glances about as if to confirm that he was alone, and walked to a lose board in the center of the floor. Lifting it, he dug a shallow trench in the dirt underneath and therein placed a silk wrapped bundle. After patting the dirt down the man replaced the board and examined the area critically, then he turned and left.   
  
The collective gasp from the class brought Kuno back to reality as Saotome used the bokken to pry up one of the floorboards, revealing concrete below. They then watched on in mute astonishment as his hands became a blur reducing the floor in that section to rubble which he dug out, digging thru into the dirt below. The greatest shock came when he withdrew a bundle wrapped in tattered silks from the hole he had made, and with a smile of satisfaction turned and left the hall, unimpeded as the club members, unlike their leader, knew better than to try and stop him.  
  
Kuno waited until he had left and before rising, curiosity burning in his soul. If he didnt know any better, he would have sworn that the bundle was a wrapped sword, if so, then who was that man who had buried it under the hall, and more importantly, how had Saotome known of its location? After leaving the club members with terse instrucions to stay put, he left the hall to follow Saotome.  
  
As he followed, he thought of what he had seen... The vision did not particularly trouble him, as he had been plagued by them since childhood, as had his sister and their father. As had members of his family for generations gone by for that matter. His father at one point had claimed that the visions were why the Kuno house was as wealthy as it was, as several of his ancestors had taken advantage of the family 'curse' so to speak, using the predictions garnerd from them to manipulate the family finances into a sizeable fortune.   
  
Members of his family had always seen what others could not, and paid a heavy price for it in the end... While accurate, and sometimes usefull, the gift was not free. For every Kuno gifted with visions was cursed with madness as well... As little as he liked to admit it to himself, on days like this, when his mind was clear, he knew that he had not escaped.  
  
But no, the vision itself was not the problem here, Saotome knowing the location of a sword buried at least a hundred years ago, on the other hand, was cause for more than a little interest on his part.  
  
Well ahead of the scion of the house of Kuno, Ranma was still in a daze, and barely registering where he was going, thus, he was wholly unprepared for the blow that slammed him into a building and knocked his bundle flying. As anger began to cloud his mind he saw the lost boy standing over him, umbrella held at ready.  
  
"Maybe that will teach you not to ignore me Ranma." The lost boy's face was a mask of anger and hate as he lunged at his rival. "Ranma! Prepare to Die!"  
  
Blocking desperately, Ranma could feel anger, anger like he'd never felt before, it was fire coursing through his veins, the chittering in his head growing louder and louder. He wanted to rend, he wanted to maim and kill! Rage, rage such as he had never felt before welled up inside him, clouding his thoughts to the point that Ryouga got a blow in, then a second and third. Strangely enough, the blows didnt really hurt, they simply fueled the fire raging inside of him. Looking at his opponents face, he saw a mask of anger and hate, and then, everything Ryoga had ever done to him, came rushing in. Every unprovoked attack. *kill him* Every interfereance with Akane. *Kill Him!* P-Chan. *KILL HIM!!* He could feel something growing inside of him as he fought, something clawing it's way out as his rage quickly consumed the last of his reason.  
  
As Genma crouched on the roof overhead and watched the fight, the sense of foreboding that had plagued him since Ranma's mysterious illness rose to a fevered pitch. He could feel something building down there, something big, and had a sinking feeling he knew what it was. He also knew, that if his suspiscions were correct, then nothing would ever be the same again. 'Gods... Why him... Why my son?'  
  
Snapped out of his reverie by Ryouga's attack, Tatewaki stepped off to one side, out of sight as he picked up the bundle lost during the initial assault. Unwrapping it he confirmed his suspiscions, it was a katana, an old one, Tokugara era from the looks of it, and probably a family blade... His ruminations were interrupted by the latest development in the battle...  
  
Ryouga was elated... For the first time in years, he finally had his nemesis on the ropes... Victory was finally within his grasp! Feinting a strike with his umbrella, he lashed out with a powerfull forward kick, flinging his opponent into a wall. Stepping forward, he drove him to the floor with a vicious overhand strike, poleaxing the smaller martial artist. Drawing back for a finishing strike, he paused in astonoishment as Ranma's body began to change. Hackles rising in unreasoning terror he backe off as his opponents features began to swell and distort.  
  
The figure that rose before him was something out of his worst nightmares, better than 6 feet tall, heavily muscled and covered in fur, it growled at him menacingly. Try as he might, the terror that consumed him would allow no movement, neither attack nor flight, all he could do was stand in numb shock as death came for him. With a single swipe of a clawed hand, his umbrells was torn from his hand and ripped asunder, the tail swipe that followed left his vision blurred with pain. Desperately willing his muscles to move, he felt his body leave the ground, a slave to the blows that drove him farther and farther into darkness.  
  
Watching the carnage, Tatewaki was at a loss, part of his mind was screaming at him to flee, while another, the cool calm part he associated with his visions, held him in place as he watched Saotome transform into a large furred rat-like creatue and proceed to tear the Hibiki boy apart. He knew of the lost ones incredible endurance and resistance to damage, he had seen the breaking point attack and had watched Ryouga shrug off the resulting shrapnel blast with no ill effects, yet this creature tore into him with ease, leaving great bloody rents in his flesh. And for all of the lost boy's vaunted strength, he was being tossed about like a rag in a tsunami, never even getting a blow in. Kuno stepped forward, not sure of what to do, but trying to prevent a murder when a scream stopped him in his tracks.   
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Akane was still looking for Ranma when she heard the yell followed by the cries of pain. 'Ryouga?' She wondered. 'What could do that?' Following the sounds she came upon a sight that chilled her to the bone and brought forth an involuntary scream. Ryouga was being held by the throat by what looked like a giant huminoid rat, he was battered and bleeding from dozens of slashes on his body, as the creature stood with one clawed hand cocked back, ready to tear the lost boys throat from his body.  
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As kuno stood by, Ranma was dealing much needed damage to the puny being that had attacked him. Finally, as his hand was drawn back to administer the killing blow, a womans scream penetrated the haze of rage that surrounded him. Casting about for the source of the distraction, his eyes came upon Akane, and the look of absolute horror upon her face cut him to the core. The rage bled from his being as if it had never existed, and he barely even noticed the change back to human form... But Akane had, he heard her whisper his name as she turned and fled.  
  
Confused for a moment, he wondered what had happened, then he noticed Ryouga's limp body dangling by the neck from his hand. Releasing him, he watched in horror as the lost boy's form bonelessly slumped to the ground and lay there bleeding and twitching. In bits and pieces, the fight came back to him, first the rage at the attack, then the elation at the feel of Ryouga's flesh tearing beneath his claws. Slowly he took in the blood on his hands, the scraps of flesh trapped under his nails, and his world collapsed around him. 'It is a martial artists duty to protect the weak' The words he had spoken so many times ran through his head now, mocking him. Now the weak needed protecting from him it seemed, now he was the villan... Slowly he backed up, muttering incoherant denials and making warding gestures with his hands, as if that would make it all better, as if it could change what he was... A killer.  
  
As he looked around himself, he saw Kuno standing there, a worried expression on his face... As their eyes met, the expression went from worry to dismay followed by horror. He watched as the normally impasive swordsman hit his knees, a strangled scream escaping his lips.  
  
Finally, unable to deal with what had happened, he ran, sprinting down the road in the vain hope of outdistancing himself.  
  
Tatewaki stood. It took every ounce of self control he had to keep from collapsing from the horror of what he had just witnessed when his eyes had locked with Saotome's. The scene had blurred, and he had seen Ranma, sprawled in a pool of blood with his throat sliced open, the implement of his demise, a shard of glass from a bottle, still clutched in his right hand. While this disturbed him, he could understand Saotome's reasons, no one _wants_ to be a monster.   
  
Then he saw another image. He saw a rain of fire falling down, destroying everything in its wake, for half an instant he _felt_ every scream, every death as the world around him was consumed, and he knew... He knew that if his first vision came to pass, then the second would as well, and while the part of him that was 'The Blue Thunder' might hate Saotome with a passion, even delusions only went so far. The katana fell from his suddenly nerveless fingers, as Kuno ran in the direction Ranma had fled, all the while praying that he was not to late.  
  
Genma watched. He didnt know what to do, and for once there was no plan, no scheme that could fix this, all he could do was pray that his son would recover. Jumping down to the road, he picked up Ryouga's limp body and the forgotten katana and headed for Dr. Tofu's.   
  
Tbc  
  
==============================================================  
  
People, I could use some C&C here... I know Kuno is OOC, as is Genma, however this simply reflects my personal view on the characters, and much of their odd behavior is explained in later chapters. Im hoping my chapter size increases in the future, but even with that I am looking at at least 8 to 10 chapters for this story.. Also, if anybody has a pic of a Crinos Ratkin they can spare, I would appreciate it.  
  
Send C&C Questions to simkin@rocketmail.com  
  
For those of you who wonder about the Nezumi, this may give you some insight:  
  
http://members.tripod.com/wwta/Breeds/Ratkin/Tribes/Nezumi/nezumi_tribe.htm  
  
SoulSurvivor  
  
We are the equalizers, the Low Born, the ultimate truth. When our Hakken brothers realize the need for us again, they will come, and we will make a killing...literally.   
-- TienBao, Nezumi Warrior  
  
Nezumi = Rat or Mouse, in this context Wererat  
Hakken = Werewolf   
Bakemono = Demon of sorts 


	3. Ancient Enemy

By the way folks, I could use some C&C here  
  
------  
Disclaimer: Aside from Rumiko Takahashi, the list of people who have the rights to Ranma 1/2 escapes me at the moment. However, I can tell you with absolute certainty that it most definately does NOT include me.  
------  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  
A shadow within a shadow, Sakura watched her quarry. She had noticed him skulking in the alley behind a local ramen shop shortly after parting ways with Saotome. Normally, she would have moved on, leaving him to his business, but with Ranma close by and still in the throes of the birthing plauge she knew she could take no chances.  
  
When she had finally gotten close enough, the stench of corruption that assaulted her senses had proven the necesity of her caution, prompting her to follow him to an abandoned warehouse just outside of Nerima. Now here she was, waiting for him to leave his lair once more and allow her to investigate, she had been observing this building for the better part of the day when when she watched a limo pull up to the entrance and leave with him inside.  
  
Never once leaving the shadows, she made her way silently to the rear of the building and after a moment of concentration, leapt onto the roof. Crossing over to a skylight, she examined the interior, finding it empty, she let herself in with the aid of one of many gadgets on her person and dropped to the floor in a combat crouch. After assuring herslef that she truly was alone, she began a detailed examination of the buildings interior, searching for any clue as to her quarry's identity and motives.   
  
Her only warning was the overwhelming sense of corruption that had originally brought her here, as something struck the back of her neck, freezing her in place.  
  
"Welcome to my Parlour, said the Spider to the Fly"  
  
The voice was rich and melodic, and at the moment lightly mocking. Unable to move a muscle, she watched with no small amount of trepidation as a man in an immaculate business suit walked into her line of vision. He stood a good head taller than her, appearing to be in his mid thirties, though his eyes spoke of one who had been around much longer. He let his eyes bore into hers for a moment as his lips streched into a thin, cruel, smile, the tips of elongated canines making themselves known.  
  
"And who might you be, little one? Ahh, thats right, you cant talk right now, can you? Oh well, who you are, is less important than what you are, child. Do you know what that is?" He paused a moment to allow her to consider "What you are, my dear, is a light snack, something to, shall we say... take the edge off as it were"  
  
With that he grabbed her shoulders and bit into her throat, his elongated canines easily tearing open her jugular. With almost obscene sucking noises he guzzled several mouthfulls of blood before stumbling back and hitting his knees with a strangled yell, a look of agony mixed with confusion on his face.   
  
The pain and shock of the attack released her from the paralisys and she wasted no time in shifting to her war form, that of a muscular humanoid rat. Willing her sword into her hand, she lashed out at the creature before her, severing the arm he held up to block. Bringing her blade into position for a follow through strike to the throat, she was caught compleatly off guard by a kick to her abdomen that threw her halfway across the room, into a wall of webbing that hadn't been there a moment before.  
  
"Cursed ratling!! Damn you, and damn your plague tainted blood!" Still retching slightly, he climbed to his feet and fixed her with a venom laced glare.  
  
Struggling in vain against the confining strands she watched as the man walked over to his severed arm, and touched it with his foot. She felt a cold hard lump form in the pit of her stomach as the limb collapsed into a mound of spiders which crawled onto the foot and dissolved into it while his arm regrew, suit sleeve and all. At that moment, Sakura knew for a fact that she was dead, the beast before her would would see to that without question.  
  
"Kumo..." she snarled, the word distorted by her form  
  
"Yes ratling. Kumo." As he approached her his features seemed to melt "And you shall pay dearly for meddling in my busssinesss.." His form had finally settled into what looked like an arachnoid centaur, with a grossly distended body and wickedly sharp claws that twiched in anticipation.  
  
It walked up to her and gently drew a line across her chest with a claw, watching the blood well out of the razor cut, noting also that the wound on her neck had already healed over. "Ssincse I can not feasst on your juicsess, I sshall feasst on your sscreamss insstead!"   
  
Sakura tried, she tried not to give the beast the satisfaction, but everone has their limits, though her screams went unanswered. And the end, when it finally came with the following dawn, was marked by no one save her killer, whose only regret was that she had not lasted a little longer.  
_________________________________________________________  
  
Kuno ran, putting everything he had and more into keeping Saotome in sight, and when he inevitably lost him, he paused only long enough to question those who might have seen him pass. All the while, he went over plan after plan in his mind, trying desperately to come up with a way of stopping what he had seen.   
  
Winded and footsore, Kuno finally found him, he had wedged himself into a patch of dry dirt under a small bridge near the edge of town. Oblivious to the world around him, he stared at something Kuno couldnt see, although he could guess as to what it might be.   
  
"Saotome."  
  
Ranma shifted slightly, tucking whatever he had been examining under his leg as he turned to address the kendoist.  
  
"Today aint the best day to mess with me Kuno, you might not like what you get."  
  
"Of that I am sure Saotome, any more than Hibiki enjoyed 'what he got' as you put it."  
  
Ranma's head dropped in shame "You saw it all then?"  
  
"Aye, that I did, that and more."  
  
Ranma's head lifted a fraction of an inch. "More?"   
  
There, the slightest pique of curiosity. Kuno knew, that there was no way he coud physically stop Saotome, if the distraught teenager chose to end his own life. What he had to do, he realized, was focus the young martial artists attention elsewhere. Slowly, a plan was begining to form in his mind, a way to convince Ranma that his present course of action was unwise. It would work, but it would require revealing the secrets of his family, revealing their second sight.   
  
Arctic winds were warmer than the kendoist's voice as he spoke. "The glass, Saotome, the one you intend to slit your throat with, the one you are hiding under your leg."  
  
Ranma jerked as if slapped, he tensed as if to run, then slumped back down. Picking up the aforementioned shard, he toyed with it, drawing it across his thumb to check it's edge. "Im not sure I really wanna know how you knew about this Kuno, but honestly, why do you care? You've hated me since the day we met, why should you care if I do this?"  
  
Letting his voice warm a bit Kuno sighed before continuing. "I understand your reasons, Saotome, and in your position I would be sorely tempted to do the same. If it were merely your life in question, I would provide a clean dagger and act as your second if you so desired... Unfortunately, that is not the case in this instance, your life is not the only one at stake."  
  
"What do you mean 'This is not the case'?! You saw what happened! You saw what I did to Ryouga, theres a good chance that I killed him! This is the only way I can keep from hurting anyone else Kuno. So why shouldnt I? Why!!"  
  
Keeping his face compleatly passive against Ranma's histerics, he allowed himself a small sigh of frustration before answering. "I can give you no definitive answer on that Saotome, I simply know what I saw. Just as I saw you here, with your throat slit and that piece of glass in your hand, just as I saw how that sword got under the training hall. I watched it happen while you were digging for it"   
  
As Kuno went on to describe the scene he had witnessed, Ranma's jaw dropped further and further, the scene matched his memories perfectly, including details that he himself had forgotten. By the time Kuno had finished his narrative, the piece of glass lay on the ground forgotten as Ranma climbed to his feet.   
  
"How...?"  
  
"My family has had the sight for generations, Saotome, and has paid the price. My price you know well, he calls himself the 'Blue Thunder' and is madly in love with your female half."  
  
"You know? When? How? But...?"  
  
The look of consternation on Saotome's face almost made the revealing of his secrets bearable, stifling a small chuckle he continued. "I know, Saotome, He, does not, nor will he ever I suppose"  
  
Puzzlment was evident on Ranma's face as he eyed the kendoist. "I dont get it... You act like he's someone else, I mean, he's you... Isn't he?"  
  
"He is both Saotome, and neither as well. He comes and goes as he pleases, as discomfiting as that can be at times. I know not which is worse however, the days when lies are all I know, or days like today, when all I see is truth. And the truth that I saw today was this, should you end your life here and now, uncountable numbers of innocents shall perish as a result"  
  
"How?"  
  
Kuno's contenance be came grave as he revealed his vision. "I saw a rain of fire, destroying all in its path, I heard their screams Saotome, it is not a vision that I would care to experience again, though doubtless it will live on in my nightmares. I dont know if your death causes it, or if by living you do something prevent it, I simply know, that if you perish, so shall we all."   
  
Ranma suddnly found himself sitting again, as his legs gave out from under him in shock. It had seemed so simple a few moments ago, one quick slash, and he would never have to worry about huring anyone else... But now that was no longer an option, if there were _any_ chance whatsoever of Kuno's prediction becoming reality, then there was no way he could risk it. Looking up at the for once sane kendoist, he knew that he was going to have to live.  
  
"What then Kuno, what can I do? You dont understand what is happening to me, hell, I dont understand it. All I know, is that there is so much anger in me, I feel like I'm gonna blow, and the voices, God dammit, the voices, they wont shut up!"  
  
Kuno shook his head. "That, Saotome, is something that you are going to have to solve for yourself. I have no answers for you."  
  
"Well what about Akane?" Ranma's voice showed mild desperation. "She saw what happened, she saw what I did to Ryouga..."  
  
"Again," Kuno interrupted, "I know not. You would be better advised to seek guidance from one more versed in the arts mystical than myself... Perhaps the crone from the chineese restaurant may have some wisdom to impart on this matter."  
  
Ranma brightened up slightly at the suggestion. "I suppose you're right, the old ghoul might have something..."  
  
His rumination was cut off as he _felt_ something change in Kuno, he looked up to see the swordsman's eyes start to gaze over as his posture became rigid. Kuno suddenly looked at him as if for the first time, as his lips curled into an imperious sneer. 'Aw hell...'   
  
"So! The sorcerous dog Saotome has finally fallen before me..." He drew his Bokken "Well, let it never be said that the scion of House Kuno is less than merciful... Your end shall be swift knave!"  
  
Twisting on the ground, Ranma lashed out and planted his left foot into Kunos gut before he could level a blow, knocking the delusional swordsman into the side of the bridge and rendering him unconcious. 'Damn! Of all the times to space out... Well, that tears it, I have no choice, but to go back and face the music. Damn, I hope Ryouga's ok'  
  
Arranging the fallen kendoist into a more comfortable position for his impromptu nap, Ranma turned and headed back to the scene of the fight.  
  
  
Elsewhere...  
Ichiro was annoyed. Most of the day had been wasted luring that girl into his trap, and she had turned out to be nezumi... 'Damn that race!' Of all the shifting breeds, the rats were the only ones who's blood was unpalatable. His stomach protested slightly, as if the memory itself hurt, and the worst part was, that he had no one to blame but himself. He had been so eager to feast on her that he hadnt bothered tasting the blood first. Sure, breaking her overnight had calmed him somewhat, but it had also distracted him from his current task. To make matters even worse, healing the damage done to his system by the ratlings blood had taken most of the following day, leaving him dangerously weak and in need of nourishment.  
  
Walking into an establisment near his quarry's he took a seat and watched as the young cook skillfully worked her trade, mixing batter and adding toppings at a frantic rate. A girl in a kimono... No, make that a man masquerading as a girl in a kimono, came and took his order. He ate slowly, not really tasteing his okonomiyaki as he waited for the rest of the patrons to exit the store.  
  
When closing time came around, he found himself alone with the owner and her crossdressing waitress. Leaving money on the table, he headed for the door, but instead of exiting, he locked it and flipped the sign to 'closed'. Turning, he faced the other occupants, finding that they had armed themselves, one with a sword, and the other, of all things, with a bakers peel. Letting himself dissolve into his war form, he couldnt help but laugh at the horror that etched itself plainly on their faces, as their weapons dropped to the floor.   
  
Meanwhile...  
The sun was on the verge of setting when Ranma arrived at the dojo, and what he found there did not bode well at all. His father was waiting for him outside the gates, their packs at his feet and a severe expression on his face.   
  
"Dont bother going in there boy, she's not there, and you're not welcome... For now anyway." Noting the look of pain on his son's face he continued. "I've spoken with Soun, and we have agreed that it would be best if you spent some time away from the Dojo... At least untill Akane calms down a bit"   
  
Ranma's shoulders slumped in defeat, he knew there was no point in arguing. "Where... Where is she?"  
  
Genma felt something inside him twist at the expression on his child's face, but hardened his resolve. "She's at the hospital, waiting for the results of Ryouga's surgery." Seeing Ranma's look of surprise he continued on before he could be interrupted. "Yes, he survived, barely, but he survived. If it had not been for Akane, you would have torn his throat out... Yes, I saw you Ranma, I saw the whole thing, and frankly boy, Im dissapointed in you."   
  
Stepping over to Ranma he delivered a stunning smack to the back of the boy's head. "Just _what_ the hell was that?! Have I not taught you better than that BOY! Twelve years of training and you lash out like a common THUG! The Art is about _discipline_ boy, it is about _control_! How DARE you disgrace our family Art?!"   
  
Ranma fell back, caught completly off guard by his fathers reaction. His current situation forgotten for the moment, he tried vainly to get a word in, to explain himself, to explain the rage. He was so flustered by his fathers assault that he could'nt even get angry, all he could do was vainly try to compose his thoughts and provide a response.  
  
Genma was having nothing of it, he knew that this was not the best idea, but his son _needed_ control, he needed to be able to keep himself in check. "You were _angry_? What is this?! Who are you, Akane? Maybe your girl side is going through that time of the month?! Where is the discipline I taught you boy? So you turned into a rat? _So What!!_ You turn into a girl several times a day!! Thats no excuse!!"  
  
With a snort of disgust, he stiff armed Ranma's pack at him hard enough to knock him back a step. "We are going to take advantage of this time boy, _you_ are going to train, and you will _keep_ training untill _I_ decide that you can control yourself. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!!"  
  
Still in shock, Ranma did the only thing he could, he put on his pack and bowed to his father. "Hai Sensei!"   
  
That settled, father and son took one last look at their home for the last 8 months, turned around and walked away.   
  
  
At the Ucchan...  
Ichiro dropped the husk that had once been Ukyo Kunoji and let out a sigh of satisfaction. Turning to the unconsious Konatsu he smiled. Standing, he brought Ukyo's image into his minds eye, studying every detail. Then he collapsed into a mound of variable sized spiders which reformed themselves into her image, clothing and all.  
  
Kneeling by Konatsu, he began to shake him, waiting until the kunoichi awoke, then, staring deeply into Konatsu's eyes, he pushed the boy's psyche with his will, pushing untill it gave, forcing Konatsu to literally see things his way. Chuckling softly to himself, he watched as the emotions played across the kunoichi's face, fear, anger, sadness, loss, confusion, and finally adoration. "Ukyo... Sama..." Yes, this one would make an adequate servant for now.  
  
Later that evening, while cleaning up the Ucchan, Konatsu was in heaven. Ukyo, his Ukyo-sama had confessed her love for him! Dancing across the floor in glee he recalled her loving eyes as she asked him to tell anybody that asked that she was visiting family for the moment. She had told him that she didnt want anybody coming between them... Whats more, she was trusting him with the store, even after the fiasco of his last attempt... She loved him!  
  
His reflection was interrupted as he came across a lethery oblong object that seemed to be filled with sticks. While he couldnt tell what it was, for some reason it disturbed him greatly. Before he could focus to much on his find, the image of Ukyo-sama's smiling face flared to life behind his eyes as he stuffed the object into a trash bag and disposed of it in the dumpster out back. Returning inside, with the object forgotten, he came across a palm sized spider on the counter... Looking down at it in adoration he sighed. "Ukyo-sama..."  
  
Tbc.  
  
  
For those of you who wonder about the Nezumi, this may give you some insight:  
  
http://members.tripod.com/wwta/Breeds/Ratkin/Tribes/Nezumi/nezumi_tribe.htm  
  
Soul Survivor  
  
Questions? Comments?  
E-mail me at:  
  
simkin@rocketmail.com  
  
We are the equalizers, the Low Born, the ultimate truth. When our Hakken brothers realize the need for us again, they will come, and we will make a killing...literally.   
-- TienBao, Nezumi Warrior  
  
Hakken - Werewolf  
Nezumi - Wererat  
Kumo - Werespider  
  
To all of you Ukyo fans out there:  
Gomen, Gomen!!!  
*kowtows repeatedly*   



	4. Consequences Faced

Chapter 3  
  
---  
Disclaimer: Aside from Rumiko Takahashi, the list of people who have the rights to Ranma 1/2 escapes me at the moment. However, I can tell you with absolute certainty that it most definately does NOT include me.  
---  
  
Tsubasa whimpered.  
  
He had hidden himself in the Ucchan in the hopes of spending time with his beloved Ukyo-sama as he always did, when IT happened. He wasnt clear on what IT was, he simply knew that IT was a BAD THING. Now he had to do the impossible, he had to cross the 20 or so feet between himself and the door. His body was only just able to move again, he wasnt sure why it could not before. Maybe the spiders where holding him down? Spiders... Spiders where bad, creepy crawlie things that sucked you dry... Where had that come from? His mind rebelled at the thought and promptly squashed it, but still, spiders where not his friend... Half way there now. A small part of his mind asked why he was running away from his Ukyo-sama, that part was immediately beaten into submission by his subconcious who wanted OUT of here, immediately, if not sooner. Almost to the door, hardly daring to breath as he ever so gently unlatched it, a shuffling noise from upstairs...   
  
Half of Nerima woke to a high pitched scream of terror, as a large potted plant ran for its life from something only it could see.  
  
Elsewhere...  
The little man walked down the corridors of the Nerima mourge, dreading what he might find. He had recieved the call barely an hour before, asking him to identify the remains of one Sakura Sagakure, and had spent that time praying it was a mistake. Now, as he entered the chilled basement area, following a rather bored looking police detective, he prayed even more, convincing himself over and over again that someone had made a mistake.  
  
One look at the mishapen form under the clean white sheet dashed all of his hopes forever. She had been literally torn apart, ripped limb from limb while being slashed with a razored edge, but enough of her face remained to tell him that his daughter was dead... He listened in mute shock as the medical examiner explained how she had been kept alive thru it all and had actually died as the result of poisoning. Apparently, after torturing her, her killer had injected her with enough brown recluse venom to kill an adult bison.  
  
Elsewhere...  
Little white pills. Little white pills, in a little paper cup. Not much, not much at all. Unless, of course, you happen to be the Black Rose. Then those little white pills in the little paper cup mean the end. The end to what, you say? Why the end to everything, of course, then end to light, the end to color, the end to life. Those little white pills, in their little white paper cup would end it all and drag her back to _there_. Back to the small minded world that everyone else lived in, that drab and lifeless place, home to the one trick pony known as sanity. As she did every day, she dropped them, pills, cup and all into her waste basket, where they rightfully belonged, knowing that as every other day, they would be replaced in the morning by one of the servants.  
  
They meant well, of that she was sure, but they would never understand. How could she be expected to give it up? All the life, color, sound and texture that only she could percieve? That wasnt counting her friends. No, not the drab and lifeless people around her, her real friends, they were everywhere, they danced with her in the night when she ran, telling her things about the world around her, although today they seemed sad.  
  
She watched in confusion as one, a small serpentine dragon spirit retrieved the cup and its little white pills, and placed them in her hand. Why? Why were they, her friends, trying to send her away?   
  
-Its only for a while, they told her, just for a little while then you can come back, we don't want to see you hurt, we dont want you to see today... -  
  
They bowed thier beastial heads in sadness as the pills were flung back into the trash. She watched the dragon re-coil itself around her ribbon as the others took up their places around her, in her clothes, on her shoulders, in her hair.   
  
-We tried,- they said, -we tried.-  
  
She then made her way to school, wondering if today she would see her Ranma-sama, he who shined with a beastial light, not unlike her friends. They said he was special, special and dangerous, but that only made him more enticing, farther from the drab lifelesness she despised.  
  
She saw it as she approached the gates of her school, a point of bright light in the distance, bright, yet dark at the same time. Stopping for a moment she watched as it grew in size and detail, coalescing into the form of a bird, a bird of black flame. After a few moments she began to realize that its apparent size was more a factor of distance than mass, for now it's wingspan extended for miles in either direction.  
  
Behind it was what concerned her however, for behind it the earh was scorched, nothing but embers lay behind its glowing ebon tail. She couldnt move, she could barely breath as her ears were filled with the sound of flames and screams. She watched in mute horror as the devastation approached then consumed her in a blinding flash of ebon light. When again she could see, her world was changed. Gone were the pretty colors, gone was the warmth, the light. In its place was a pall of greenish black, superimposed on the world around her was one of death and devastation that slowly healed. Yet as things finally returned to what they were, she could just make out a point of bright darkness, approaching from the distance once again.  
  
-It wont stop,- they said, -this is why you must go for now. When it is gone for good you can return, and we will be waiting.-  
  
The world was destroyed six times before she made it home again, regardless of how many times she saw it happen, the spectacle was never once any less horrifying than the first time. Running thru halls that were at the same time whole and ruined, she made it to her room, where the little white pills in their little white paper cup were waiting for her. Waiting to end her pain, yet also waiting to end her life. With one final goodbye to her friends, she swallowed the little white pills that marked the end of an era, thus ended the reign of the Black Rose.  
  
Elsewhere...  
Once again, the little man walked. This time the corridors were those of the sewers beneath the city of Tokyo, there he walked with nothing more than a cheap disposable flashlight to illuminate his path. Yet this time he did not travel alone, his family was with him, scurrying around his feet, their numbers were legion. For hours he traveled, never once pausing, never hesitating as he navigated the labrynth of tunnels, some man made, but more and more often, either natural, or dug by thousands of tiny clawed feet.  
  
Finally, after the better part of a day, he came into a large dimly lit cavern, crowded with dozens of large humanoid rats. There was a raised dais in the center of this chamber, covered with a mound of refuse, intermixed with bones, both human and other and topped with an oversized, over stuffed chair. The rat-man that sat on the improvised throne was old, his eyes yellowed and filmed over, his muzzle white. He was missing his right ear, the scars of the blow that removed it running down the side of his face, leaving furrows of pink flesh in his pale fur. Across his knees lay a sword, a large two handed affair that looked to have been made of beaten iron, yet its edge seemed to glow with a preternatural light.  
  
The elder looked down upon the little man as he entered the chamber and bowed. After a few moments it spoke in a screeching, chittering tongue.  
  
*What brings you here Guardian?*  
  
The little man looked up at the elder, pausing for a moment to properly phrase his request.  
  
"Elder, for twenty years, I have held the title of He Who Guards The Seers, as my father before me held the title, and his father before him. For the last eight generations, we have performed our duties to the best of our abilities, bringing news of visions that might in some way affect the Warren. In all that time we have asked for nothing, being content to serve the Warren and Mother Rat... Is this not so?"  
  
This brought a murmur from the beings assembled, only some of whom knew what the title entailed. The Elder waited a moment for it to die down before answering.  
  
*That you have, as have your forefathers before you. Am I understand that after all this time you have a request?*  
  
The little man simply nodded his head in assent.  
  
*Then speak and you shall be heard.*  
  
Standing to his full height, he looked up to meet the Elder's eyes as he spoke, his voice a bare monotone, yet still betraying the anger and pain bottled up inside of him.  
  
"Three days ago my daughter Sakura Sagakure, known to you as Sakura Walks In Shadows was murdered. Her killer tourtured her over the period of several hours before allowing her to die. Were her killer a human being, I would not need the help of my kin, I would have taken no small amount of pleasure in making him pay... But he is not. According to the autopsy report, she was killed with a massive dose of spiders venom and there were traces of webbing found under her fingernails and in her hair."  
  
He paused for a moment to let his words sink in, the rising cacophony of voices telling him that his bretheren had drawn the same conclusions as he had and it pleased him to note that many of his distant kin were already plotting revenge. Once the voices had quieted down to a more manageble level he continued.  
  
"Yes, my daughter was murdered by a Kumo"  
  
The Elder sighed, this was one of those times when politics truly got to him, and the resigned tone of his voice was missed by none.  
  
*As much as it pains me to say this, there is not much we can do. I hate the damn bugs as much as any of you, but the Beast Courts will not allow us to strike at them openly. We may be strong, but we are not strong enough to defeat the combined might of the Hengeyokai, should it be brought against us.*  
  
The voices in the chamber muted a bit, although there were still those plotting private revenge should the culprit be brought to light. They all quieted when the little man spoke again.  
  
"No, you cannot strike at them, but you can give me what I need to avenge my daughter. As a man I am not strong enough to fight a Kumo, so I ask that my time as a man be ended tonight, one way or another. I request the Rite of The Birthing Plague, to join Rat as one of her warriors. Should She choose to remove me from this mortal coil instead, then so be it!"  
  
The muted chitterings rose into a roar as all present had something to say in this matter. The Rite had never been performed on someone his age, what he was attempting would surely kill him. Yet others could feel the rage inside of him, with that much anger to fuel him, he just might survive though the odds were slim. Out of all of them however, not a single voice questioned his right to request it, and that was what the elder was listening for.  
  
*SILENCE!!*  
  
The Elder looked down at the little man for a moment before speaking again.  
  
*Step forward and place your hand upon the dais.*  
  
There was nothing but determination and a little anger on his face as the man did as he was told. He watched as the elder shifted down to his rat form and hopped off the chair onto the platform before him. The pain of the oversized incisors piercing his flesh was nothing compared to the pain of seeing his daughter on the morticians table, and the almost immediate fever that tore thru his body was welcome, as it would be an end either way. As the room slowly emptied out, the elder shifted to his human form, which appeared to be in it's eighties, and looked down upon him, not unkindly.  
  
"Sasuke Sagakure, may Mother Rat guide you and keep you on your journey."  
  
Meanwhile...  
The mite sized spider hung from its thread over the dining area of the Nekohaten and watched. A few blocks away, in the apartment over a very different restaurant, a much larger spider sat in the webbing filled chamber that had, at one time, housed the best okonomiyaki chef in all of Japan.  
  
Ichiro watched, he had eyes spread all through the old bitches restaurant and could follow her every move. When he had seen what time had done to her body, he had almost been tempted to simply watch her die, yet the drive for revenge demanded something a touch more personal. He almost hadnt recognized her, but then again, it had been over 100 years since last they had met. His defeat at her hands had been the most humiliating of his life, and he fully intended to see her pay for it.  
  
He had been running an import/export business at the time, though most of his business had been composed of opiates and slaves for the foreigners in Shanghai. Through Kui-jin contacts, he had learned of a group of magic springs that had the ability to change the shape of any who touched their waters. After having a sample sent to him for corraboration, he had put together an expedition to this place called Jusenko. Things had gone wrong shortly after arriving, starting with the fact that there were hundreds of springs, each with their own unique curse and no-one knew which was which.  
  
He had sent scouts in all directions, foraging for supplies and, more importantly, looking for a local that might know the location of one particular spring, the Nyanichuan, The spring of Drowned Girl. Once that one was found, he intended to return home minus two dozen porters and plus two dozen slavegirls for the Shanghai brothels. Looking at the unknowing victims he had to laugh... By the time they figured out that most of the weight in the packs they carried where their own collars and chains, it would be far to late.  
  
Then, it had seemed, that things were starting to look up for them. One of his scouts had returned, telling tales of a village of warrior women, almost all of exceptional beauty, without a single firearm to be seen.  
  
They had attacked at dawn, a black powder charge was used to blow the main gates, as his men flooded in, guns blazing. Only, things had not gone according to plan. Instead of the disorganized rabble he had been expecting, his men met stiff opposition. Even then, their firearms would have carried the day if it were not for _her_. She moved through his men like a purple haired demon, leaving broken bodies in her wake, a crushed larnyx here, a shattered spine there, till he suddenly found himself surrounded and alone.  
  
Chuckling, he shifted to war form, laughing out loud as they broke ranks and ran, all except for her. She simply stood there, nothing but disdain on her face as she addressed him.  
  
"Kumo! Know this. You have trespassed upon the lands of the Joketsozuku and for that you will die. I am Ku Lohn, Village Protector, and the last living being you will ever see!"  
  
With that, she assumed her war form, an oversized pre-historic tiger with purple fur so dark it shined black in the early dawn light.  
  
They rushed each other, titans battling over a cowering village, each vying for supremacy. At first she had the advantage, her speed was incredible striking him multiple times before he could even begin to defend himself. Yet it was his ability to literally see and strike in any direction that eventually began to give him the upper hand as he pushed her on the defensive. She then spent all of her time defending and backing off, her light slashing counters doing nothing more than angering him further.  
  
Her shifting back to human form was the last thing he had expected and the smirk on her face only served to enrage him further but when he tensed to lunge, she threw a single punch, a punch that came nowhere near him as she yelled out an attack that would serve to haunt his nightmares for decades.  
  
"Hirou Shouten Haa!"  
  
The resulting whirlwind had shattered him, the spiders that made up his being were sucked into the vortex and crushed. Where it not for the few spiders he had left at the springs to watch his future slaves, his life would have ended that day. It had taken him years to reform, only to find that his financial base had long since been taken over by others. It had taken him the better part of a century to recover what he had lost, though he had spent much of the time studying the martial arts, in an effort to find a counter to the move that had nearly killed him. To this day, he had been unsuccessful.  
  
His only real consolation was the fact that she was practically helpless now, a meddling old crone managing a restaurant. He would take great pleasure in killing her, that was of course, after making her watch her great granddaughter get sucked dry. Yes, he had waited this long, he could afford to wait a couple of days to set it up perfectly.  
  
The dry laughter emanating from the upstairs area of the Ucchan cleared out the few customers that were there, as Konatsu looked up, sighed and smiled.  
  
In the Nekohaten, an old, if far from helpless woman shivered, before returning to her tea.  
  
_______________________________________________________  
  
Tbc  
  
Previous Chapters Found At: http://nezumi.homepage.com  
  
For those of you who wonder about the Nezumi, this may give you some  
insight:  
  
http://members.tripod.com/wwta/Breeds/Ratkin/Tribes/Nezumi/nezumi_tribe.htm  
  
DarqueChilde  
aka Soul Survivor  
  
Questions? Comments?  
E-mail me at:  
  
simkin4@hotmail.com  
  
We are the equalizers, the Low Born, the ultimate truth. When our Hakken brothers realize the need for us again, they will come, and we will make a killing...literally.   
-- TienBao, Nezumi Warrior  
  
Hakken - Werewolf  
Nezumi - Wererat  
Kumo - Werespider 


	5. Training and Portents

Nezumi - Chapter 4  
  
A few days hike from Nerima there lies a wooded area fondly refered to as 'Mt. Terror'. Where it got this moniker is unclear, and it truly offers little to warrant such an imposing name. What it does have to it's name however is privacy, privacy enjoyed by generation after generation of local martial artists who go there to train away from the prying eyes of neighbors and rivals alike.  
  
This day was no different than any other in that regard, however, if you were to ask the younger of the two who trained here, he would beg to differ... Once he regained his senses anyway.  
  
Ranma was not the happiest of campers. Well and enough that he now turned into a monster when he got angry, add to that nearly killing Ryoga and alienating Akane. Now to top it off, his old man was trouncing him in bout after bout, half the time without allowing him to get a blow in! He'd lost count of the times he'd shifted in the last week, but whenever he did, his father simply vanished, only to re-appear once he had regained control.  
  
So far, the only thing he had going for him was control, control over his shape that is. The frequent outbursts brought on by frustration and pain were becoming easier and easier to deal with, his bursts of frenzy easier to halt as well, which, he decided, was what his old man had in mind all along. Now all that was left to do was find out how the old fart was managing to pull it off. Pausing in his latest futile attack, he regarded his nemesis with hostile curiosity.  
  
"Alright Pops, spill it! When did you get this good?"  
  
Genma regarded his rebellious offspring with no little amusement. "Heh! You mean to tell me that you have yet to figure it out boy?" He straightened from his defensive posture and paused a moment for effect. "I have ALWAYS been this good! You, my dissapointing student, have simply never looked far enough past your nose to see this!"  
  
Denial burning in his veins, Ranma pointed an accusing finger at his father. "What the hell do yo mean Old Man?! I've pounded you every day for the last two or three years now, and you've never moved this fast before!"  
  
Eyeing his son seriously for a moment, Genma considered a moment before speaking. "You won because I allowed it." Warding off his son's protests. he continued "Now, I can guess your wondering why, right? Well then, take a seat and I'll explain..." Taking his own advice, he made himself comfortable before continuing. "Ahh... Where was I... Oh yes... Why I've been letting you win our bouts for the last couple of years." He paused for a moment to clear his throat. "When I was around your age boy, I traveled to many an odd place in my efforts to perfect my Art. One of those places ended up being the western half of America when I heard of an incredible evasion technique called 'Dance of the Rattlesnake'. While the technique was even better than I had hoped, it took time for me to gain the trust of the man who taught it and while I was there I ended up hanging around with a local rodeo hand. Ahh the nights we spent sampling the local whiskey and discussing our seperate paths in life... But I digress... Anyway, after watching the rodeo show at his invitation, I asked him about the one thin that struck me a truly odd. Yo see, one of the events in a rodeo is a rather dangerous sport called 'Bronco Busting' where the riders compete to see who can remain the longest on the back of an unbroken horse. What struck me as odd was that no matter how often they were mounted, not one of the horses would give in, not one of them would allow itself to be ridden without a fight. Now, breaking a horse for riding I can understand, but... How does one train a horse to NOT be broken?" He paused a moment to drink from his canteen and insure that Ranma was still paying attention.  
  
"So," he continued "one night while enjoying the local bars, I decided to find out. 'Bill,' I asked 'how in hell do you train a horse to NOT be broken?' 'Well Genma,' he replied, 'what yo gotta do is get the horse to expect the rider to come off, that way, when he dont, it tries harder and harder till he does.' Well, after a few more rounds, I finally got him to explain how it was done. The process is laughably simple yet strangely effective... What they do, in effect is let the horse win, a rider gets on, and when the horse tries to throw him, he lets it have its way. After a few weeks of this, the horse expects to win every time, and when it doesnt, it tries harder and harder until it gets its way." Pausing for a moment, he gave his son an amused smirk. "Are you getting the picture yet, Wild Horse?"  
  
For a moment, all Ranma could do was sit there with his jaw agape as the implications of his fathers tale sank in. Then came Rage, waves of it, as days of frustration and anxiety mixed with justifiable anger at his fathers deception boiled up as an almost palpable force. This time, when the change came, he made no effort to fight it... Not that it did him any good. This, as every other time, his father simply vanished into thin air, leaving nothing but mocking laughter in his place.  
  
=================================================  
  
Aloof and alone, the Kuno mansion stood on the outskirts of Nerima, a lone sentinel in open defiance of the wards normally crowded living conditions. Its unofficial lord and master was enjoying one of his rare episodes of lucidity when the feeling struck him as a bolt out of the blue, if one will pardon the pun.  
  
Tatewaki paused in the practice of his favorite pastime, his bokken held in a guard position, as a feeling of wrongness washed over him. Not the doom and destruction he had seen in Saotome's eyes, this was closer to a feeling of malevolence that threatened someone he was aquainted with. Letting the feeling engulf him, he felt the world around him slowly fade away, leaving him drifting in a sea of darkness, then a form began to take shape, it was a girl, her features almost familiar though distorted by death, her body gaunt and pale, her bloodless corpse hanging from a rafter by her long purple hair.  
  
Slowly drifting back to reality, or what passed for it in his life, he decided that perhaps dinner in a chineese restaurant was in order.  
  
=================================================  
  
Deep under the streets of Tokyo, farther from prying eyes than Mt. Terror could ever hope to be, another was experiencing visions as well. His, however, consisted of spots, streaks and splotches covering every hue in the rainbow.  
  
When he opened his eyes and realized that he was still alive, Sasuke's first reaction was to surge to his feet in triumph... That was a mistake. After retching what little was left in his system onto the cavern floor, he carefully regained his footing and took stock of his surroundings through bloodshot eyes.  
  
At some point in the plague he had been removed from the council chamber, that much was obvious. Looking to the blood memory of his kind, he recognized his current surroundings and his position in relation to the surface. 'Time to go then' Pausing only long enough to pay his respects to the elders in the council, he began the long journey to the surface, towards his destiny, toward his revenge.  
  
=================================================  
  
In Nerima general, ironically only a few doors down from the room Ranma had awakened in a little over a week ago, Ryoga brooded. He had regained conciousness three days ago and had regretted it almost immediately, the pain of his injuries being beyond anything he had ever experienced, including the breaking point training that Cologne had put him through.  
  
The pain, however, was not bothering him at the moment, what had him concerned was the fact that for the life of him, he could not remember what had happened to him. He remembered wandering into what he thought was Kobe, then... Nothing. Every time he tried to recall what happened afterword, his guts would wrench with nameless dread and he would draw a blank. There was one thing he was absolutely sure of however... Whatever had happened was somehow and in some way All Ranma's Fault!  
  
tbc 


	6. Secrets Revealed

The trees of Mt. Terror echoed, as they often have in the past, with the cries of those who dedicate their lives to the Arts of combat. This time, however, neither combatant was human. One, and oversized panda, moved with a grace and speed that far outstretched even the wildest expectations one could have for such a beast. The other, a humanoid rat, moved with a blinding speed normally not seen off of the silver screen. Both fought with a level of skill that would bring tears of envy to many a Hong Kong action hero.  
  
Accustoming himself to fighting in his hybrid form had proven to be more of a challenge than Ranma had expected. While the old man was no longer pulling his vanishing act, a trick that he steadfastly refused to teach, fighting with a tail and claws was a definite pain in the ass. Focusing on his art however, gave him a moment to relax and think the last few days over, and as he did, one question began to nag him, and inconsistency that begged for resolution. Calling a halt to their sparring match, Ranma regarded his father with more curiosity than he normally gave his daily life.  
  
"Got a question for ya, old man," he said as he shifted fully human. "How is it that you're so calm 'bout this? I'd a thought you'd be flipping balls 'bout this whole deal. 'Stead you start trainin' me, like ya know what's up... So, what's the deal?"  
  
Genma paused a moment, as if debating his response to the inquiry before answering.  
  
"Heh... I was wondering if you would ever think to ask that question... Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you about your heritage, though, to be honest, I would rather never have had reason to have this conversation..."  
  
"What the hell are you babbling about, Old Man?" Ranma snorted, "You're stalling, trying to weasel outta tellin me what's goin on..."  
  
"As I was saying," Genma interrupted, "while this is a conversation I would rather not have, your condition leaves me no other option, so... If I may continue?"  
  
At Ranma's slightly abashed nod of assent, Genma sighed in annoyance before continuing.  
  
"Your 'curse' as it were, is one that has plagued my family every few generations for as long as our family history is recorded at the very least. The last one that carried it was my Grandfather Sato, and it was his hope that I be the next Nezumi Warrior in our family. It was to this end that he began my training in the martial arts, as well as other slightly less honorable pursuits. Now, you may consider me dishonorable, I know that others do, and to a degree, you may be right... But Grandfather's 'Low War', as he called it, was something that I simply could not deal with. You see, boy, the Nezumi are killers of the worst sort, murderers with no regard for honorable behavior, or the welfare of any that stand in their way." Genma shuddered a moment at the memories, then gave his son a piercing look before speaking again.  
  
"Listen to me, boy... Some of the things I have done in my life may not have been those of the honorable man I have tried to mold you into, but I swear, on what honor I have left, that I have never taken a life needlessly, nor have I deliberately tried to end the life of another... With the exception of the Master, that is." The last was followed by a bitter chuckle as he regarded his son's shell-shocked expression a moment before continuing.  
  
"It was Grandfather's continued pressuring that finally forced my hand... I heard of a wandering Master of the Art, and in the hopes of escaping my Grandfather's influence and plans, I sought him out and became his student, all without bothering to find anything out about him... Heh... It's actually amusing now, but consider my shock when I discovered that my sensei was the most perverted man in all of Japan! Still, for all of his faults, the Master was not a killer, and that thought alone kept me from running away for the first few months, then fear of my grandfather finding me kept me with him after that. As much as I reviled the Master for his perverse ways and brutal training, he was all that kept my grandfather's minions from bringing me home. As a human being, the Master left a lot to be desired, but as a martial artist... He could sniff out grandfather's me regardless of their guise, and those that confronted him were not very pretty to look at after he finished with them. Eventually, they either stopped trying or perhaps our travels finally caused him to lose track. Then, shortly before I met your mother, I learned that Grandfather had disappeared without a trace, and was presumed dead. I was more relieved than I have ever been in my life, then I found that the Master had no intention of ever releasing Soun and myself. What followed that, you already know."  
  
To say the least, Ranma was in shock at his father's revelations. Following shock came revulsion at what he had become, a killer, a monster, a freak! Shaking, he could barely bring himself to speak, and when he did, it was with a noticeable quaver in his voice.  
  
"So that's what I am? A monster? Of course! Look at what I did to Ryouga! A godforsaken killer freak!"  
  
Genma's sharp retort cut through his depression, cutting short his self-recrimination.  
  
"Wrong, boy! That is what you might become," stepping up to his son, he let his gaze bore into the despairing eyes of his offspring, "but only if you let it happen! That is why I brought you here, that is why we are working on controlling your anger, bringing you back to your center, helping you gain control. Control your anger and you control the beast inside you, control the beast, and you make your own destiny! The question you need to ask yourself is this, boy. Can you do this? Are you enough of a MAN to control your fate IN SPITE of your heritage? Are you?!"  
  
As his father's question resounded in his mind, one thought kept surfacing. This was a challenge, a battle for his soul as it were, and battle was something he could understand and relate to. For the first time since coming to with Ryouga's throat in his hand, he felt the stirrings of confidence. This was, at its most basic level, another fight, and when the chips were down, Ranma Saotome never lost.  
  
When he met his father's gaze, it was with the beginnings of his normal cocky grin, and his voice was firm and resolute as he gave his answer.  
  
"Yes."  
  
*************************  
  
While Ranma dealt with the meaning of his existence, life in Nerima continued unaware. In the confines of his booth at the Nekohaten, the scion of the House of Kuno pondered the meal before him. The meal, cold and untouched, seemed to stare mockingly into his bloodshot eyes as he stifled yet another yawn and shifted uncomfortably on the vinyl seat. To the best of his recollection, this was the longest period of lucidity he had ever experienced since his visions started at puberty, and for the first time in his life, he prayed for his delusions to return. It wasn't that he enjoyed the madness, but he was beginning to believe that it served a purpose.   
  
Since his vision of Shampoo's murder, he had been rational. He had also slept for maybe three hours in the last two days. When he did doze off, his dreams were haunted by varied images, from Shampoo's rictus grin, to the death screams of everyone he knew as they were consumed in black flame, and so on in that vein. Needless to say, none of this was conducive to a good night's sleep, the lack of which was responsible for his present condition.  
  
Gazing about at the hustle and bustle of the restaurant, his gaze was drawn to the nearly blind busboy. Mousse's posture, normally resigned to his toils, or fawning on the purple-haired waitress, had become rigid with annoyance as his hand shot out and trapped a large fern in a steel hard grip. Not bothering to look at his captive, he simply snarled in anger.  
  
"I thought I told you never to come back here, Tsubasa." The tendons on his arm stood in stark relief as he tightened his grip.  
  
Before anyone else could respond, Cologne's annoyed voice rang out.  
  
"What the hell are you doing, Part Timer? That's a plant, not a pervert!"  
  
The frost in Mousse's voice was clear as the disdain in his retort.  
  
"Is that so? Then tell me _Oh Wise Matriarch_ why your 'plant' is turning blue."  
  
Sure enough the formerly green and healthy fern was taking on a decidedly unhealthy blue pallor, and finally collapsed out of the pot to reveal Nerima's least favorite cross-dresser.   
  
For about 10 seconds silence reigned broken only by Shampoo's soft "Aiyah..." Finally Cologne spoke again.  
  
"Score one for the part timer. Mousse, unless you want to go to jail for murder, I suggest you let the pervert breathe, then perhaps he can explain his presence here."  
  
With one final squeeze for good measure, Mousse complied and the next few moments were silent aside from Tsubasa's choking gasps and the footfalls of customers discretely exiting stage left to avoid what might become a potentially violent situation.  
  
Tsubasa, of course, wasted no time at all in adding his match to the powder keg.  
  
"You *choke* have no *gasp* right to *wheeze* keep me from my *cough* beloved Shampoo... URK!!"  
  
The last exclamation came from being forced to his tiptoes by the point of Mousse's dagger at his throat.  
  
"Your Shampoo!!" Mousse thundered. "How dare you lay claim to my rightful bri...OW!"  
  
Mousse's tirade was cut short as an expertly thrown chopstick struck a sensitive nerve cluster in his wrist causing his hand to spasm and release the dagger he was attempting to ram through Tsubasa's throat. Before he could react, Cologne was at his side, and the look on her face stopped him cold. When she addressed them, her voice was strangely subdued.  
  
"Calm down, Part Timer. If you kill him, nothing I can do will keep the authorities from taking you away. As for you Tsubasa, why aren't you out harassing Ukyo? Why risk death to come here and harass..."  
  
The look of utter loathing and disgust that warped Tsubasa's features stopped her in mid-sentence as he snarled his reply.  
  
"Ukyo?! Why in hell would I want that cross-dressing freak? She disgusts me! She always has! I love Shampoo! I always have, and you all know it!"  
  
Taking advantage of the momentary stunning effect his outburst had, Tsubasa made a mad dash out the door, screaming all the while.  
  
"You wait! Shampoo will be MIIIIIIIIIINE!"  
  
It was Tatewaki, forgotten in his booth, who finally broke the ensuing silence.  
  
"That... was different."  
  
***********************  
  
In a hospital room across town, Ryouga awoke to an angel at his bedside, and for the moment, simply basked in her glory.  
  
Akane felt a hot flush creep across her cheeks at the naked adoration in Ryouga's eyes when he awoke. For a moment she was at a total loss for words, and the seconds ticked by in silence, as, for the first time, things began to click in her mind, A leading to B leading to C. For the first time, the conclusions she was drawing were accurate, and based on these conclusions, a lot of the previous few months began to make sense. What worried her was her own reactions to these conclusions. Finally, the thoughts running through her mind and the pervading awkward silence became too much to handle.  
  
"Ahem... How... How are you feeling?" Blushing even deeper at the catch in her voice, Akane focused on the room, the floor, anything besides those adoring eyes.  
  
Snapped out of his reverie by her voice, Ryouga realized that he had been staring a little TOO intently, and blushed himself.  
  
"I... I'm doing fine," he stammered. "I'm g... glad you came to see me, Akane-san."  
  
When she looked at him again, he avoided her gaze, his lips pulled into the weak grin she was familiar with. This Ryouga, the painfully shy one, she could handle him, he was familiar territory, and yet, a part of her missed what had been there just a moment ago. Shaking her head to clear it and try and avoid blushing again, she focused instead on Ranma. That did the trick quite nicely, thank you very much, her thoughts on the pigtailed Martial Artist being about as far from romantic as it was possible to get. Centered once again, she addressed one of the things she had overheard from Ryouga's doctor.  
  
"Is it true that you can't remember what happened to you?"  
  
At his nod she went on.  
  
"I saw part of it... Towards the end... It... It was bad, very bad..."  
  
At the haunted look on her face, Ryouga's heart melted all over again, then, her words registered on his hormone-befuddled mind.  
  
"You saw? What happened?"  
  
Gathering herself, Akane proceeded to relate the events as she recalled them.  
  
"Well, it all started..." 


	7. The Spider Strikes

Nezumi  
Chapter 6  
by Soul Survivor  
  
---  
Disclaimer: Aside from Rumiko Takahashi, the list of people who have the rights to Ranma 1/2 escapes me at the moment. However, I can tell you with absolute certainty that it most definately does NOT include me.  
---  
  
Of all the lessons learned in her century plus lifespan, meditation was one that Cologne employed the most. It allowed her to make sense of the daily madness that surrounded her, as well as deal with it without resorting to homicide... Usually.  
  
*Smash!* "Stupid!" *Crunch!* "Pervert boy!" *Thud!* "Need bother!" *Wham!* "Someone else!" *Crash!* "AND NO COME BACK!"  
  
Even one hundred and more years of practice was being challenged by the strangeness around her of late. From Tsubasa's current fixation on Shampoo to the Kuno boy's sudden interest in chinese food to the strangeness in Mousse's behavior, things were getting weirder by the moment. The Kuno boy was a mystery in and of himself, having become very quiet of late as well as not sleeping well at all. From the way he acted, it seemed as if he were waiting for something, and the haunted expression on his face indicated that whatever he was waiting for could not be good.   
  
Then there was Tsubasa... While she did not know all that much about the little pervert, what she did know was that he was supposed to be obsessed with Ukyo, not Shampoo.  
  
That all of this coincided with son-in-law's recent illness and attack on Ryouga was not lost on her. Ryouga's memory loss was no coincidence either. It was indicative of one who had witnessed a shape-changers war-form and suffered the effects of the Delirium, the insanity brought about by humanity's instinctive terror of the shifting breeds. Only those of Were blood were immune, and she was quite positive that that did not include Ryouga.   
  
The Tendo girl on the other hand... Her account of son-in-law becoming a furred monster was music to the matriarch's ears. She had seen the potential in his aura on their first meeting, and the hope of producing a full blooded Kahn warrior in her lifetime was born anew.  
  
When her great-granddaughter had turned out to be mere kinfolk, she had been devastated. All those years of training wasted, all her hopes for naught... Then Shampoo had gone and gotten defeated by an outsider male with what looked to be excellent breeding, the mark of the shifting breeds strong in his aura.  
  
Then, of course, there was the Neko-ken... While there was the possibility of a non-Kahn learning it, it was a slim one at best, the Cat spirit being quite particular about whom She bestowed Her gifts upon. The claw marks on Ryouga's body told her all she needed to know; she was certain that the boy was Kahn, and that was the best news she'd had all decade.  
  
Mousse, on the other hand, troubled her greatly. The marks in his aura were of a variety she was not entirely familiar with, and they were getting stronger on a daily basis. Add to that his uncanny ability to detect Tsubasa, regardless of his disguise, and it became clear that the blind boy was fast becoming an unknown quantity, something she did not like at all.  
  
Interrupted from her musings by the renewed violence that heralded Tsubasa's return, she wondered whether she should have simply let Mousse kill him to begin with.  
  
*************************  
  
Everyone has their sanctuary, the place they go when they need some peace and quiet, for Kodachi, that was her garden. Normally, the heady scent of her black roses would calm her, allow her to think and plan. Normally... Today, all the ebony blooms did was depress her further.  
  
This was her third day on her medication, her third day of sanity, as it were. Gone was her accustomed leotard and ribbon, in its place was a subdued green kimono. Gone was her lethal gymnastic equipment, replaced by schoolbooks and study, making up for years of sliding by on only her family name in a private school. But also gone with them was the brightness, the color in her life, replaced by a drab mundaneity she could scarcely handle.  
  
Time and time again, she was tempted to simply toss her pills in the wastebasket, to escape the colorless world and return to her former life, but one thing stopped her. This world, colorless and drab as it was, was reality, her former life simply a dream. The things she had experienced in her delusional state, that had seemed so real, faded to nothing in the harsh light of sanity, and she knew that she had come way too close to hurting or killing others in her madness.  
  
Then there was Ranma... She shuddered to think of the things she had done to him and those around him in her pursuit. Attacking his fiancee, trying to hill the red-haired girl, someone who could only be his sister, what with the strong family resemblance and same family name. Using so many drugs and poisons on him, any one of which could have been lethal in excess, tricking him, tormenting him and those around him... It was no wonder that he wanted nothing to do with her... And that hurt most of all, for the one thing the pills did not change were her feelings for him. She loved him still, and it was a love she now knew went unreturned.  
  
***************  
  
The nights in Mt. Terror are full of life, at least to those with senses sharp enough to discern it. While his father's sonorous snores did wonders to drown out the sounds, the scents pervading the woods were driving Ranma insane. From the damp smell of the underbrush to the varied musks of the local wildlife, this was one aspect of being Nezumi that he could do without.  
  
Finally, after tossing and turning for better than an hour, inspiration struck. Slipping out of his bedroll, he dug his canteen out of his pack, quietly uncapping it, he dumped its contents on the sleeping form of his father, eliciting little more than a slight hitch in the older man's snores as his curse activated.  
  
Taking a deep sniff, he smiled in satisfaction before returning to his bedroll and falling immediately asleep. After almost a year of living with it, the odor of damp panda fur was one he could deal with.  
  
Ranma found himself surrounded in mist, the chittering voices that haunted his sleep louder than ever. Slowly the mist cleared and he found himself in the hilltop clearing where he had first encountered Rat, and after a moment, most of the remaining mist coalesced into the form of Rat herself.   
  
Despite everything his father had told him, despite even his own misgivings, in her presence all he felt was safe and loved. Steeling himself, he faced her, determined to be master of his own fate.  
  
"Look... Ermm... Well..." Words failing him, all he could do was stand there, his determination failing in the face of her presence. Finally, She spoke.  
  
"Relax, young warrior, and set your mind at ease. I know what troubles you, and while out of content, much of what your father has told you of us is the truth. For most Nezumi, their duty is to cull the masses of humanity, to keep them in check. I also know that you are ill suited for said task. Rest assured, young one, the low war of your brethren is not your lot. No, Fate, it seems, has a different plan for you, a different plan indeed."  
  
Feeling a wave of relief wash over him, Ranma took a moment before responding.  
  
"So... If I'm not in with this Low War thing, what then? Why make me like this? And why didn't you tell me about this Low War business to begin with? What exactly do you want from me?"  
  
Rat's chuckle was pleasant, that of a parent dealing with a small child's innocent questions.  
  
"All will be revealed in good time, young one, all in good time. For now, however, it is time to begin your training."  
  
This caught Ranma's attention immediately.  
  
"'Training'? Err... This wouldn't involve c-c-c-cats and fish sausage, would it?"  
  
Apparently, even a furred rodent's face can display confusion.  
  
"Ahh... Nooo. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Heh... No reason... Just checking... So! What sort of training did you have in mind?"  
  
A portion of the remaining mist coalesced into a small rodent, which hopped onto Rat's shoulder and eyed him appraisingly as Rat responded.  
  
"This is the Kangaroo Rat. Hers is the secret of mighty leaps and bounds, a secret she will share with you this evening."  
  
Nonplussed, Ranma eyed the tiny rodent, debating on whether or not he should mention his school's specialization. Finally, shaking his head in amusement, he grinned at his diminutive sensei.  
  
"Riiight. Well then... Let's see what ya got."  
  
Much, much later, as dawn approached, two questions were prevalent in his mind. First, why was it, that the smaller the teacher, the bigger the hardass they were? And second, when the HELL was he going to learn that his foot did NOT belong in his mouth?  
  
*************  
  
As the sun rose over Nerima, Ichiro came to a decision. He had waited long enough, the time for the first part of his vengeance was at hand. Today, the old bitch would pay the first installment on her debt to him. Today her great-granddaughter would die.  
  
Leaving Konatsu with orders to run the restaurant as usual, he made his way to the Nekohaten, shedding his Ukyo disguise as he left the Ucchan. Arriving at his destination, he noted that the boy who had been practically living there for the past two days had already arrived and was sitting in his customary corner booth. No matter, though, he could be dealt with easily. The same went for the busboy who was busily wiping tables. Those two would fall to the Delirium as easily as the former owner of his current lair had, leaving only the crone and her spawn for him to deal with. Ahh, to see the look on the old bitch's face when he drank his fill from her precious great-grandchild... Vengeance was indeed a dish best served cold.  
  
Ignoring Shampoo for the moment, he focused his attention on the crone, addressing her in flawless Mandarin.  
  
"Greetings, Ku-Lon of the Joketsozuku. Do you remember who I am?"  
  
Eyeing him warily, the old woman shook her head after a moment before responding in the same language.  
  
"To be honest, no, I do not... I know I have seen you before, but I could not say when or where."  
  
"More's the pity then, crone, more's the pity. I remember you quite well, 'Protector of the Amazons', quite well indeed."  
  
Her danger sense flaring, Cologne eyed her guest closely before responding.  
  
"It has been many years since I have used that title, stranger... How is it that you are so familiar with me?"  
  
Chuckling, he slowly let himself dissolve into his War-Form, laughing out loud as recognition finally lit her feature, along with a touch of fear.  
  
"Yesss... Now you remember me, don't you... Now you remember me... And now you pay, yess, now you pay."  
  
Lashing out with a clawed forelimb, he held a futilely struggling Shampoo aloft before him by her hair. He writhed with glee as he watched the old bitch attempt assuming her War-Form, attempt and fail.  
  
"You're too old for that, bitch, too old by far... I, however, I am ssstill in my pri- ack!"  
  
Without warning, the girl was snatched from his grasp by... Nothing? Turning, he received a face full of knives, shuriken, yo-yo's, chains, and a duck training potty, as the girl floated well out of his reach and alighted on the floor at the other end of the restaurant. The busboy, instead of being frozen in terror, was facing him, a look of fury upon his face. Chains hung from his sleeves like streamers of ribbons from a party favor, and his coke bottle glasses glinted from their perch on top of his head.   
  
Then from the left came another attack, the other boy, also unaffected by the Delirium was moving forward, his bokken blurring in a series of thrusts, the air pressure of which were beginning to pulp the spiders that made up his body. Worse, the old crone was attacking also, her walking stick moving even faster than his eyes could follow.  
  
The realization that he had seriously underestimated his prey did little more than fuel the rage building inside of him as, with a roar of primal fury, he returned to the offensive. Rage granting him speed and strength far beyond his oppressors, he lashed out at the old crone, striking her several times before she could react, the impacts flinging her ass over elbows into the kitchen area.  
  
Another series of blows sent the bokken wielding boy flying into a wall, allowing Ichiro to focus on his primary threat, Mousse. Spinning, he grabbed for the busboy's chains, intending to string him up with them, and received another shock as they sprang away from him, seemingly of their own volition.  
  
The myopic boy stood facing him, his body between the enraged Kumo and Shampoo. His chains floated about him, writhing like angered serpents, one or another striking out, keeping Ichiro at bay for the moment.  
  
"An amusssing trick, mageling... But, how long can you keep it up?"  
  
Ichiro could see the exhaustion on the boy's face, he knew that in a matter of moments the strain of keeping his chains moving would wear the boy down. It was simply a waiting game, then he would kill them all, the girl first, so the mageling could watch her die.  
  
Sensing the old bitch, he turned his attention her direction in time to easily catch the object she had hurled at him. Looking at his hand, he found himself holding... A melon?  
  
Kuno was in agony. The pounding he had received was worse than anything Saotome had ever done to him, in either form. He doubted his ability to even stagger back to his feet, let alone resume the fight against whatever that monster was. Suddenly, the pain was washed from his limbs, as his body was filled with a holy purpose. Tatewaki Kuno was once again the mighty Blue Thunder. The fruit that he hated beyond anything else in this world filling his vision, he charged.  
  
Ichiro's only warning was an inarticulate howl of insane fury as the maddened Kendoist plowed into him. Moving with a speed and skill that defied description, the Blue Thunder assaulted his hated foe, paying no attention at all to the creature that held it, until said creature attempted to block him in his holy quest. Then, that creature, obviously in league with the hated fruit, became his target as well, something to be exterminated, obliterated... Destroyed!  
  
It was at this point that Ichiro decided to retreat. The Kendoist was in a full frenzy, ignoring damage done to him, the busboy, his bladed chains writhing, was moving in as well, and the crone, miraculously unharmed by his assault, was advancing, her body glowing with power. He had obviously underestimated them, and facing them stood a good chance of being a fatal mistake. Collapsing into his breed form, a mass of tiny spiders, he scattered to the four winds, fleeing for the moment.   
  
When he had recovered from this mistake he would return, better informed and prepared to deal with the lot of them. Yes, they would all pay with their lives; he would kill them slowly, one by one, when they least expected it.  
  
Cologne watched as the Kumo dissolved and scattered. Keeping her battle aura burning, she extended her senses. When she was sure he was gone, she let it drop, and felt the pain of her injuries wash over her as she leaned heavily on her staff, the weight of her years felt for the first time in her life.  
  
Limping over to Mousse, who had collapsed in exhaustion upon Ichiro's exit, she tapped a few shiatsu points to better let his chi refresh him. Turning to Shampoo, she directed her to Kuno, who was finally feeling his injuries.  
  
"Take him into the back and make him comfortable, I will deal with Mousse here."  
  
As her great-granddaughter complied, Cologne sat herself by Mousse's prone form, focusing her attention on the boy's aura. The marks she had noted before were there, much more prominent now, as well as the well-defined mark of magic. That was what she had seen before, and now it made sense. The boy had finally come into his own, and just in the nick of time from the look of it.  
  
How long she sat and studied his aura, she did not know, only becoming aware of her surroundings again when Shampoo cleared her throat.  
  
"Great-grandmother... What just happened? What was that thing and how did it know you? What did Mousse just do? What is going on?"  
  
Gently bopping Shampoo on the head for not speaking Japanese, she sighed before speaking.  
  
"It is a very complicated story, child, one that will take some time to fully explain. Come, I will tell it to you as we clean up this mess."  
  
Several hours later found the Nekohaten cleaned up but not open for business as a battered Cologne sat and shared tea with a stunned-looking Shampoo, an amazingly recovered Kuno, and a still exhausted-looking Mousse. At the moment, Kuno was finishing an explanation of his family's curse and his vision of Shampoo's murder.  
  
"Aiyah... So that why you spend last three day here?"  
  
"Aye... After the vision, what else could I do? It is the duty of a Samurai to defend others, and while my former delusions have seemingly gone for good, it is still a code that I strive to follow."  
  
"That is something, sonny boy. How is it that you're no longer a raving psychotic? No offense intended, of course."  
  
"None taken, Elder. I am sure that my ravings were a spectacle to behold... But, as to your question, I am not sure what happened... As best I can tell, my delusions began fading after witnessing the incident between Saotome and Ryouga. It seems that the horrific vision I had afterward has burned the delusion from my mind. Instead, I now get very little sleep..."  
  
The edge in Cologne's voice as she interrupted him caught his attention. Her posture had become almost hungry as she addressed him in a calculating tone.  
  
"You were there for the fight? You witnessed his transformation? Tell me about it."  
  
"You know of that?"  
  
"Yes, actually. I have been expecting it for quite some time now."  
  
At that, Kuno was suddenly half out of his seat, indignation heavy in his voice.  
  
"And yet you mentioned nothing to him? Old one, do you have any idea how close Saotome came to taking his own life because of that? His becoming a half-rat monster nearly drove him -"  
  
"Rat!?" The near hysterical tone of the matriarchs voice, belied her visage of detached curiosity. "Are you sure?"  
  
Calming slightly, Kuno paused a moment to regain his dignity before responding.  
  
"Of course I am sure, I was less than five meters away when it happened. That is beside the point, however... Methinks you have done him a grave disservice in keeping your silence on this matter. Someone could have been killed that day, honestly, had it been anyone other than the Hibiki boy... I do say madam, are you even listening to me?"  
  
Her expression ageing her beyond even her years, Cologne's voice was distracted as she answered.  
  
"I am listening, boy, and yes, perhaps keeping the matter to myself may have been a mistake, but, what's done, is done. I will speak to him when he and his father return. Now, however, it is perhaps best if you return home and get some rest. I very much doubt that the Kumo will return for a few days, and I have preparations to make."  
  
As Kuno was headed out the door, he paused as Cologne spoke again.  
  
"Know this also, your actions today will not be forgotten, Tatewaki Kuno. I am in your debt. Should you ever require the assistance of the Joketsozuku, simply ask for it."  
  
Bowing formally, she closed the door behind him, then turned to those remaining.  
  
"Shampoo, you go get some rest, I want to see if we can open for the evening crowd. Mousse, I need to have a word with you alone."  
  
After Shampoo had gone to her room, Cologne eyed the myopic boy appraisingly for a moment, then poured him some tea.  
  
"It seems that I underestimated you, Part Timer, something I will never do again, you can be sure of that. However, this leaves us in an interesting pickle if you would. The Matriarchs Council will be less than pleased to discover that the first Joketsozuku Magi born in over six hundred years is a mere male. Dont look at me like that boy, yes, I said Magi, because that is what you are."  
  
Stirring the dregs in the bottom of her teacup, she seemed to come to a decision.  
  
"When the mess with the Kumo is over and done with, you will challenge Shampoo. And THIS time, you will not hold back! I know that you dont like the idea of hurting her, boy, but you have no choice in the matter. You will challenge her, you will defeat her, and then you will marry her, thus the only Magi in the village is no longer fair game for any Matriarch to use in any given scheme"  
  
Scraping his lower jaw off the table, Mousse eyed the Matriarch as if she'd grown a second head.  
  
"I dont understand... You have spent most of my life telling me that I could not have her... Now you are practically ordering me to marry her? Not that Im complaining mind you, but what about Saotome's claim?"  
  
The old woman's wry grin at Mousse's discomfiture slowly soured as she explained.  
  
"Saotome's claim is being overridden by my authority as village Matriarch. As the saying goes, Rank Hath It's Privleges, and all that. As to why... Well, for once I will be frank. My family have been producing Kahn protectors for most of the three thousand years of Amazon history. And while bringing the first Magi born in half a millenia under my influence has its perks, it is still a secondary concern to my bloodline. There is no way, under any circumstances that I will taint three thousand years of Kahn heritage with the blood of a Rat! I dont care how talented he is, I dont care what he can do, it will NEVER happen!"  
  
_______________________________________________________  
  
Tbc  
  
Previous Chapters Found At: http://www.soulsurvivor.itgo.com  
  
For those of you who wonder about the Nezumi, this may give you some  
insight:  
  
http://members.tripod.com/wwta/Breeds/Ratkin/Tribes/Nezumi/nezumi_tribe.htm  
  
DarqueChilde  
aka Soul Survivor  
  
Questions? Comments?  
E-mail me at:  
  
simkin@rocketmail.com  
  
We are the equalizers, the Low Born, the ultimate truth. When our Hakken brothers realize the need for us again, they will come, and we will make a killing...literally.   
-- TienBao, Nezumi Warrior  
  
Hakken - Werewolf  
Nezumi - Wererat  
Kumo - Werespider 


	8. Begining of The End

The insistent ring of the telephone roused the woman from her early morning slumber, beating out the alarm on her bedside by better than half an hour. Fumbling for a moment, her hand finally alighted on the handset, bringing quiet once again to the sparsely furnished bedroom.  
  
"Moshi-moshi... Ahh, hello, Kimiko... You've seen them?! Where?" The fog of sleep clearing almost instantly from her mind, the woman frantically grabbed a pen and pad from her nightstand and scribbled down the information she was being given. "And you're sure it's them? Thank you, thank you ever so much... Yes, I'll tell you about it when I get back... You have a good day as well, once again, thank you."  
  
Hanging up the phone, she cast about for something to wear, excitement driving away any notion of sleep. So much to do, so much to do... Beaming, she gathered her bath things and laid out her best kimono; so many preparations to make... Yes, it was going to be a good day.  
  
A couple of hours later, still high on excitement, the woman adjusted her silk-wrapped bundle as she boarded a train bound for Nerima.  
  
*****  
  
Not everyone woke up that morning in high spirits, however, Tatewaki Kuno being a prime example of this fact. Opening his eyes, he decided, had been a truly grievous error in judgment. An error he compounded by attempting to move, whereupon his body decided to inform him, in no uncertain terms, precisely what it thought of that idea. Groaning in pain, he slowly staggered through the miles of hallway that separated his bedroom from the furo, whilst every bone, muscle, and sinew in his body screamed bloody murder at the abuse. Finally arriving at his destination, he eased his battered frame into the piping hot water, in hope of gaining something resembling proper mobility sometime before noon. As the heat slowly soothed his aching body, he wondered why it was he'd never felt this badly while insane... Lucidity, he decided, was highly overrated.  
  
*****  
  
The Tendo home was clean, cleaner than it had been in years. When one considers the diligence of its resident homemaker, that alone speaks volumes.   
  
Kasumi had discovered long ago that cleaning helped her deal with stress. The task of maintaining her family's home, while at times dull and tedious, helped her maintain her center, the way kata helped her youngest sister, providing and outlet for the stress created by the madness around her. This last week, however, there simply wasn't enough to do, not nearly enough at all. With Ranma and his father gone, her workload had dropped considerably, and even Akane's daily fights with Father, and the tantrums that invariably followed couldn't make up the slack. Both Father and Akane were adamant in their positions, and the tension this created kept the entire household on edge... She winced as a new wave of shouting emanated from the living room, the battle of wills between her sister and father once again boiling over. This ended abruptly, as the front door slammed hard enough to shake the house, causing her to pause for a moment, listening to her father's inconsolable wails, before re-sweeping her spotless kitchen floor.  
  
*****  
  
As the woman arrived at the address she had been given, she was startled by the thunderclap of a slamming door, then nearly bowled over as a very angry young woman stormed past her and out the front gate. Pausing momentarily to regain her composure, she re-adjusted the silk-wrapped bundle slung over her shoulder before approaching the front door, which was now hanging by a single hinge, half out of the frame. With no small amount of trepidation, she knocked gently on the mangled door frame, then stood back a bit, just in case.  
  
Much to her relief, the door, or what was left of it, rather, was answered by a serene young woman in a housedress. Belatedly remembering her manners, she bowed and introduced herself.  
  
"Good morning. My name is Nodoka Saotome. I was told that I could find my husband and son here."  
  
*****  
  
Far away, in the woods of Mt. Terror, Genma paused for a second as a chill ran up his spine. This, however, proved to be a bad thing to do while sparring, something proved immediately, as his ever so ungrateful offspring proceeded to pound him with a thirteen punch seven kick combo that effectively ended their training for the next few hours.  
  
*****  
  
Shortly before the clock struck noon, a much happier Kuno finally finished his soak. Feeling much better about life in general, he dressed and made his way to the kitchen for a much belated breakfast before heading back to the Nekohaten... That was his plan, anyway. Instead he found himself confronted by Sasuke, who, instead of being his normal timid self, was this day most dour of countenance.  
  
Before he could comment on this change, the diminutive ninja bowed formally and addressed him in the gravest of tones.  
  
"Master Kuno, I regret to inform you that circumstances have arisen that require me to leave your service at this time and for the foreseeable future."  
  
Blinking momentarily in confusion, Kuno looked at his family's retainer in bewilderment. "I don't understand... What circumstances could take you from my family's service?"  
  
Sasuke found his need for revenge suddenly challenged by a lifetime of loyalty to his unstable charge. Steeling himself as much as possible, he pushed on. "Please, Master Kuno, don't make this harder than it already is. I have... personal... business that must be attended to... A family matter that I must deal with personally..."  
  
Responding to the pain in his servant's eyes, Kuno placed a hand on the man's shoulder while replying. "Say no more, you can take as lon- Argh!"  
  
On a lance of flame, the vision assaulted his mind, an unstoppable torrent of images wrapped in a blanket of rage and sorrow that drove him to his knees, unable to do aught but watch. A raven-haired woman, torn to pieces while still alive... The monster from the Nekohaten gloating over her remains... The pain of a father discovering that he has outlived his child... Tunnels and rats, so many rats... An ancient rat-man on a throne of refuse... Pain... Sickness... Rebirth... Darkness.  
  
Kuno awoke where he'd fallen, a cold compress across his brow and Sasuke by his side. Looking the agitated ninja over, he composed his thoughts before speaking.  
  
"The girl, the one killed by the Kumo, she was your daughter."  
  
Stunned by Kuno's bluntness, all Sasuke could do was nod.  
  
"And you, you are one of them now, one of the rat-folk."  
  
Mentally pole-axed by Kuno's matter-of-fact tone, Sasuke was at a loss. Never before had the boy inferred this much specific information from a vision. Looking at his charge with new respect, he finally found his voice. "We are called Nezumi, Master."  
  
Rising to his feet, Kuno motioned for Sasuke to follow him as he made his way to the kitchen. There, he had the ninja sit as he prepared himself a sandwich, then joined him at the table.  
  
"Nezumi... A fitting name... Tell me, Sasuke, what do you know of the Kumo that killed you daughter?"  
  
Sorrow crossed the little man's face as he answered, "Nothing at all, Master, I can only hope its lair is in this area, as its trail is quite cold."  
  
Kuno's lips pulled into a grim smile. "Not as cold as you might think, definitely not as cold as the beast would like, that much is for sure." Pausing a moment to take in the ninja's look of confusion, he continued. "The beast you seek attacked the Nekohaten yesterday afternoon, as it apparently holds a grudge against the old crone that owns the establishment. Between the old woman, the busboy, and myself, we were barely able to drive it off, wounding it sorely in the process. Moreover, the elder is convinced that the beast will try again, which is why I am headed there shortly."  
  
Worry and elation danced across Sasuke's features at this news. "The creature cannot be far, then. Do you intend to remain at the restaurant?" Seeing Kuno's nod of assent, he stood. "Then I shall know where to find you once I uncover the beast's lair!"  
  
He was gone before Kuno could respond.  
  
*****  
  
A trail of destruction marked Akane's progress through the streets of Nerima. Pock-marked walls, mangled street signs, and other bits of random devastation stood as testimony to her rage. Fuming, she stormed on, totally oblivious to the wide berth being given to her by terrified pedestrians, more accustomed to a certain bandanna-clad boy being responsible for this behavior.  
  
How could he do this to her? Didn't he give a damn about HER feelings? Didn't he care that Ranma had become a monster? How the hell could he expect her to marry someone, no, someTHING like that? "Daddy no baka!" Lashing out, she looked up to find her fist embedded to the wrist in Nerima General's front sign. Sighing in frustration, she extracted her slightly bruised hand and made her way across the parking lot to the entrance. Perhaps talking to Ryouga would help take her mind off things.  
  
As she approached his room, she heard a splash, followed by a shriek as a nurse nearly trampled her while fleeing the room. Rushing in, she was stopped dead in her tracks by the sight of a strange girl in Ryouga's bed. Blinking in confusion, she was about to re-check the room number when she noted the distinctive yellow and black bandanna on the girl's forehead. "R-ryouga?"  
  
Slightly panicky, the girl held her hands in a warding position as she tried to get her vocal cords to function. "Eh... Uh... Akane!" she squeaked. "I... Uh... I can explain?"  
  
Her desperate attempt to come up with a plausible explanation was interrupted by Akane's logical leap to the wrong conclusion.  
  
"You don't have to... I can't believe this! After everything that baka has done to you... You got yourself cursed trying to find a cure for him, didn't you?" Shaking her head, she smiled at him. "That is just so like you."  
  
It was Ryouga's turn to blink in confusion as she tried to follow her reasoning. Giving up, she offered her a rather sheepish grin and silently praised her good fortune as she answered her. "Yeah... Yeah, that's what happened alright... Just trying to help... Yeah, that's it." Better that lie than explaining how he'd somehow jumped into the wrong spring while trying to cure his own curse. Damn that guide and his lousy directions, anyway.  
  
Painfully, Ryouga-chan made her way to the bathroom sink to change back as Akane sat down. Male once again, he returned to his bed, only then noticing the troubled expression on Akane's face. Worried, he arranged the pillows so he could speak to her comfortably.  
  
"What's the matter? You're not upset about my curse, are you?"  
  
For a moment she said nothing, then, sighing, she looked up at him, anger and confusion warring on her pretty face. "No, it's not that... It's... Well, it's my father... He, he still insists on going through with the damned engagement! Even after all this crap, he still wants me to marry Ranma! Why doesn't he understand that I can't do that?"  
  
Ryouga's tone was conciliatory as he agreed, trying to calm her. "Of course you can't marry him, how can you marry someone you don't love?"  
  
Standing, Akane paced the room in frustration while giving voice to the turmoil within her. "That's just it... I do love him." Oblivious to the shattering of Ryouga's heart, she went on. "Or at least I thought I did... I don't know anymore! How can you love someone you're terrified of? I've had nightmares every night, always of him going berserk and attacking me!" She paused in her pacing, fear plain on her features as she turned to face him. "I think of all our fights, all the times I've hit him, and I wonder... What if he hadn't run into you? I was following him, that day you know... I was angry, so angry, and I would have yelled at him like I always do, I would have hit him like I always do, like I always do... Only this time..." Slowly she fell to her knees, tears coursing down her face. "It could have been me, Ryouga... It could have been me..."  
  
Clumsily, Ryouga vacated the bed. Ignoring the pain of his injuries, he knelt and wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed into his chest, his joy in her proximity tempered by her sorrow. "Shh... It'll be alright... I would never let him hurt you, you know that..."  
  
Eventually, Akane's sobs died down, leaving her acutely aware of Ryouga's embrace. After a moment's consideration, she decided to remain there for a while.  
  
*****  
  
Kuno was a little surprised to find the Nekohaten open for business when he arrived later that afternoon. Nodding a greeting to Mousse and Shampoo, he made his way to the back of the dining area where Cologne sat with a teapot and two cups before her.  
  
"Well, I must say, you look like hell, Kuno."  
  
Wincing as he took the vacant seat across from her, Tatewaki gave the matriarch a once over. "One could say the same for you as well, Madam. We can only hope the beast is in worse condition than ourselves, else we may not have the upper hand should it deign to return today." Pouring himself a cup of tea, he went on. "However, it appears we have an unexpected ally in this battle."  
  
Arching an eyebrow, Cologne sipped her tea before responding. "You don't say... And who might this be?"  
  
"As it turns out, my family's ninja Sasuke, of all people. His daughter was murdered by the beast, now he's joined the Nezumi in his quest for revenge. Even as we speak, he is laboring to track the beast to its lair."  
  
"Interesting... Do you believe he can accomplish this?"  
  
"Sasuke has served my family for longer than I have been alive, and in all the time that I have known him, he has never once failed me... If the beast can be found, Sasuke will find it... The question then becomes, what then? Even with his help, can we kill this creature?"  
  
The malicious grin that split her features would have sent demons scurrying in fear for their lives. "Oh, trust me, boy, I have that angle covered, covered indeed."  
  
Evening found a fragile peace in the Tendo Dojo, as a slightly shell-shocked Nodoka tried to fully absorb what she had learned. While she had found the curses hard to swallow at first, a reluctant demonstration by the Chinese delivery girl had changed her mind on the subject, much as she'd rather believe otherwise. Her son... Her MANLY son... What had her foolish husband done?  
  
Idly, she caressed the hilt of her katana, tracing its shape from pommel to tsuba as she tried to come to terms with this new view on reality, the terms of her husbands contract etched clearly in her mind. What could she do? The contract stated the terms clearly, A Man Amongst Men. How could Ranma fulfill that now? After all this time, all this wait, she was going to lose her only child to magic, something that until this day she hadn't even believed in... If only he didn't have that damned curse! Then... Then what? There still remained his recent transformation into some form of beast... A transformation that was due to his lineage, if Genma's explanation to Soun were to be believed... Then again, how could Ranma be judged for something he'd been born into? Something he had no control over... No control over, just like his curse.  
  
Relief washed over her as the concept took root in her mind. The contract counted Ranma's upbringing and training, NOT magical influence. Of course! It was right there before her the entire time! Besides, wasn't it said that a man was judged by his actions? On how he overcame adversity? What better test then, than to see how Ranma dealt with not one, but two curses? Relaxing for the first time in hours, she finally returned her attention to her surroundings just in time to watch the young woman, Akane was her name, that had nearly trampled her earlier, enter through the recently repaired front door.  
  
While no longer angry, Akane was, if anything, even MORE confused about her feelings. Kicking off her shoes in the entryway, she made her way through the house in a daze, not even noticing the strange woman sitting across from her father in the living room as she silently climbed the stairway towards her room. Once safely ensconced within, she sprawled on her bed and went over the details of her afternoon, trying to make sense of her jumbled emotions.  
  
What had she been thinking? Her behavior with Ryouga bothered her, and yet, at the time it had seemed right... While it had not gone further than that one embrace, that was bad enough. Why had she let it go on? What did she want? Then again, why did this bother her so much? All he was doing was comforting her... Right? And yet, the way he had looked at her that first day, made impossible to ignore the fact that he... That he... Loved? Did he? If he did... Then what? Why did the idea bother her so? Kuno loved her, Ryonosokke loved her, hell half the male population at Furinkan claimed to love her! Why did Ryouga's feelings matter so much, then? More so, how did she feel about him? He was her friend, yes, but did she want him to be more?  
  
Burying her face in her pillow to muffle her shriek of frustration, she found the day's emotional drain taking its toll. Slowly, she faded into sleep, her unanswered questions remaining just that... Unanswered. 


End file.
